


Eyes On Me

by SariErrbody



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Choking, Creepy Fluff, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Smut, Stalking, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:00:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SariErrbody/pseuds/SariErrbody
Summary: Wooyoung couldn’t do it anymore, the irritation had won out. Arms still crossed, he swung his head heavily in San’s direction."Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer."San blinked."Can I really?"Wooyoung didn't know why he said nothing, allowing the stranger to pick up his phone and snap pictures of his incredulous face."You're a bit weird, aren't you?"Wooyoung has a bit of a bad track record with relationships. He's skeptical of others, of this random weirdo staring at him at work, one that he can't seem to shake.But does he even want to?
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Comments: 124
Kudos: 269





	1. Chapter 1

Wooyoung leaned against the counter, twirling his hair in his finger idly. He spun the dark lock in front of his face, examing it with muted interest. When did it get so long, anyway? 

Around him there was the low chatter of café patrons, the clicking of keys as student’s typed on their laptops, none of them paying him any mind, so his lazing about went unnoticed.

Behind him, he heard Yeosang’s low voice, “We got that 3pm lull.”

“Mm.” He hummed in reply.

“I’ll be in the back, holler if you need me.”

“Mm.”

Wooyoung had moved on to inspecting his nails, black nailpolish flaking on his index finger. He scowled at the chip, knowing it was only going to grow in size and need repainting.

The bell on the door chimed, signaling a new patron. Wooyoung straightened, putting on his customer-smile for the newcomer.

“Welcome! What can I get for you?” He asked cheerfully.

The man in front of him was not looking at the menu, but was looking at Wooyoung. He didn’t acknowledge he heard him, didn’t speak at all, and the seconds dragged on.

“Sir?” Wooyoung tried again, maybe this guy was deaf, or hard of hearing. He pointed up at the menu.

“Would you like to order something?”

Wooyoung observed the man’s eyebrows, (the only thing feature on his face that wasn’t _sharp_ ), go up in surprise, before he shook himself a little, seemingly waking himself up from his obvious daze. 

“Sorry.” The man said.

Wooyoung stretched his lips into a thin line, craning his head forward and hovering his hand over the computer terminal, making it clear he was ready to select the man’s order.

The man cleared his throat.

“Yeah um… Can I get a mocha? Medium, please.”

“Sure thing.” Wooyoung replied, pressing the screen. He accepted the man’s card and slid it through the reader, before grabbing a cup and his marker.

“Name?”

“San.” The man replied quietly. He really seemed out of it, he must really need this coffee.

Wooyoung went to work on the mocha, noting that the man --San, had moved to sit at the counter, likely eager to get his caffeine fix.

He finished and placed the Mocha in front of San.

“Here you go.”

“Thank you…” San replied, craning his head and looking down at Wooyoung’s chest.

“...Wooyoung.” He read aloud.

San smiled, taking a sip of his drink gently, eyes never leaving Wooyoung.

Wooyoung felt a shiver run down his spine. That felt almost…. flirtatious.

“No problem.” He replied, turning around and moving back to wipe down the machine, trying to at least look busy now that someone was seated at the counter.

When he turned back around the man was still looking at him, smiling wide when their eyes met. Wooyoung blinked, feeling a little taken aback. What's with this guy? He busied himself cleaning, now that he had an audience it felt weird to just stand there doing nothing.

Eventually he found he had nothing left to clean, so he leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms. 

He could feel the man’s eyes on him still. It was definitely getting weird. He felt his face start to heat, this was getting ridiculous.

He looked okay today, right? He suddenly felt overdressed and underdressed at the same time in his plain black work clothes under his apron and overly pierced ears. He worried his bottom lip.

He looked at the man again, --San, he reminded himself when he saw the name he wrote on the cup. He expected San to look away, maybe be embarrassed for getting caught staring, but he didn’t. Just stared, smiling slightly.

Wooyoung grit his teeth, pointing his face the other way.

He knew he shouldn’t say anything. Last time he was rude to a customer, his manager had reprimanded him and said it was “Strike one”, and he really didn’t want to get to strike three. This café was at a decent location, it had a lot of high-tipping customers. But he felt his irritation building the longer this guy stared at him with no obvious motive. The minutes passed and he still felt the gaze. He couldn’t do it anymore, the irritation had won out. Arms still crossed, he swung his head heavily in San’s direction.

"Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer."

San blinked.

"Can I really?" He asked, immediately grabbing his phone off the counter, swiping on it quickly.

Wooyoung’s thoughts were swirling. He looked into the distance without seeing, brain processing taking all of his energy. He heard the shutter of a virtual camera and was jostled out of it.

San was frowning at his phone, inspecting the picture carefully, before picking it back up and repeating the action, taking another picture of a slack-jawed Wooyoung.

Wooyoung watched as San smiled at the newer picture, holding it closely and humming in approval.

Wooyoung guffawed.

“You really wanted a picture?” 

The other nodded.

“Why?”

San looked away, finally showing a normal level of human shame.

“You’re pretty.” He said quietly.

Wooyoung felt his chest rise involuntarily in a laugh. He shook his head, unable to stop the next few incredulous beats of laughter from escaping him. 

When he looked back at San the other was looking at him with interest, fingers still hovering over the picture on his phone.

“You’re a bit weird, aren’t you?” Wooyoung asked.

“I don’t know.” San answered. “...Do you like weird?”

Wooyoung shook his head again.

“Unbelievable. Are you hitting on me?”

San’s adam’s apple bobbed.

“I wasn’t trying to.”

The bell on the door chimed. Wooyoung was forced to break away from the conversation to go greet the new customer, completely unsure of how he should feel about the interaction he just had.

As he worked a few more customers came inside, he called for Yeosang to come help him handle the orders.

He felt eyes on him throughout, occasionally looking at San to confirm that he was indeed being watched. At about the fifth time he glanced over, he was surprised to see that San was no longer there. 

He looked around the café, no San in sight.

“What are you looking for?” Yeosang asked, mimicking his head movements to help search for something he was unaware of.

“Nothing.” Wooyoung answered, exasperated. 

“Just some weird guy that was here.”

“The guy that was at the counter?” Yeosang asked.

Wooyoung shrugged.

“Ooh, you _were_ looking for him.” Yeosang teased.

“He was super hot--”

Wooyoung smacked him. “Staaahp! He was _weird._ ”

Yeosang laughed lightly. He flipped his hand nonchalantly before strutting towards the back.

“Weird and _hot._ ”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes and went back to leaning on the counter, mind replaying the strange encounter until his shift ended.


	2. Chapter 2

The day was dragging on. Wooyoung scrolled through his phone in the back of the cafe, waiting for the oven timer to ding so he could retrieve its contents.

He glanced at the timer, less than a minute left. 

He heard Yunho, their part-timer’s voice call back.

“Wooyoung! We’re out of croissants up here!”

“One sec! I’m bringing more out!” He called back.

“Thank you!”

The oven dinged.

Wooyoung slipped on his oven mitt and opened the door, pulling the pan out and placing it on the stainless steel counter.

He grabbed a spatula and quickly transferred the golden brown croissants from the hot pan to the plate nearby, before taking the plate and bringing it to the storefront with him.

On the way to the display, Yunho paused him, using a square of wax paper to take one of the steaming pastries off of the plate and place it into a paper bag.

“Ah, here we are! You’re lucky, these are right out of the oven!” Yunho said, directing the comment at the woman in front of the counter. She hummed in pleasure, as if she had already tasted it.

Wooyoung brushed passed his coworker to the display case, sliding the door open and crouching low to the croissant’s location on the shelf, using tongs to move them over.

As he moved the second one, he felt a sudden sense of unease, prickling the skin on his arms and giving him goosebumps. He looked up, towards the dark figure in his peripheral, focusing in and identifying it as the man he had met yesterday.

San was seated at the counter, leaning forward over it with his head tilted down, index finger curled on his chin. His eyes were narrowed, instantly flicking from whatever he was studying on Wooyoung to his face as the other turned his head. He was wearing a pair of thin wire glasses today, making his gaze look almost scholarly. Almost.

Wooyoung froze, mouth forming a surprised ‘o’ as he processed seeing the person he had been thinking about a lot yesterday, but had nearly erased from his memory after a good night’s sleep.

His senses felt heightened, like he had been on the verge of sleep but instead jumped into a freezing cold pool. 

San’s hand dropped from his chin, a large smile painting his face and squishing his eyes. He raised his hand, --and with a few false starts, successfully performed a shy wave.

Wooyoung blinked, surprised that he found San’s greeting _cute_ despite the fact that the other had been watching him again like a creep. His unease was still present, but he found himself waving back lightly with the tongs in his hand.

San sighed and rested his chin on his hand, lowered eyelids relaxed like he had just accomplished something.

Wooyoung flicked his hair from his eyes, turning back to his task at hand, giving a few more nervous glances to the man watching him as he worked.

When he had finished he stood, stiffly turning to San who straightened himself up on his stool.

“Hi…” Wooyoung said, dragging the word out slowly.

“Hi.” San replied simply.

“You’re here again, today.”

San nodded. He wrapped his slightly knobbly fingers around the drink in front of him, guiding it closer as he ducked down to it to take a sip rather than bring it up to his lips. Wooyoung watched him hollow his cheeks to drink, following the movement down San’s neck as he swallowed, noticing a drop of condensation on the outside of the cold cup roll down and wet his finger.

Wooyoung swallowed. He expected San to answer in some way when his lips left the straw, but he didn’t, he just stared from above the glasses that had slipped lower on his nose.

“Uhhh… I’m gonna get back to work.”

“Okay.”

Wooyoung spun around and walked back into the kitchen.

When he did occasionally pop out to help Yunho with something or bring more food to the display, he would see San, who seemed to look up from his phone the moment he entered the front, like he had a sense for when Wooyoung would round the open corner that led to the back.

It went on for two hours.

Wooyoung once again came from the back, huffing slightly when he realized that along with an older man reading a book, San was still here, and it was 5 minutes until closing. He looked over at Yunho, who was wiping down the counter, preparing to close up. 

Wooyoung sighed, he shouldn’t make a part-timer deal with this.

He walked over to the old man, gently informing him that they were about to close. The man startled and agreed, packing up his things and swiftly exiting.

Wooyoung turned to San, who was for once not watching him, he was scrolling through his phone.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. How convenient, the one time he wasn’t paying attention was when it was time to leave.

He approached San from behind, ready to call out to him, but San spun around as he neared.

“Hey, uh…” Wooyoung started, not sure exactly what to say.

“San.” The other supplied.

“Yeah, San. Um... we’re about to close. Is there anything else I can get for you…?”

San blinked, then looked at the display case. He pointed his finger at the glass, at an item that Wooyoung had brought out earlier.

“Do you make those?”

Wooyoung looked at the pastry that San was pointing at.

“The chocolate loaf? Yeah I made it.”

“Oh!” San smiled, looking excitedly back at the rich iced slices.

“I’ll take a piece, then.”

Wooyoung nodded, feeling a little taken aback.

“S-sure thing.” He mumbled, already walking back around the counter, retrieving a slice from the display. He packed it into a brown paper bag decorated with the Cafe’s rose logo.

He went to the register, holding the bag out over the counter as San reached him. San was taller than he thought he’d be, now that he was standing Wooyoung could tell the other was slightly taller than him.

San reached into his pocket, pulling his wallet.

Wooyoung lowered the bag, he had totally forgotten that San still needed to pay.

He placed the bag on the counter and accepted the card from San, dropping his head in embarrassment. He thought he saw San’s shoulders shake in a laugh out of his peripheral. He chewed the inside of his cheek.

He selected the pastry in the terminal and slid the card, taking the bag in his other hand and sticking both straight out over the counter, keeping his face turned down and away.

A few seconds passed, so he shook the bag, wondering where San’s attention was. When the objects still remained in his hands he looked up, frowning at San for not accepting his items quicker.

San smiled at him sweetly, knocking the scowl off Wooyoung’s face.

“Thank you so much!” San said, bowing slightly before taking both items from the other. His fingers briefly touched Wooyoung’s, startling Wooyoung with their warmth.

“N-no problem.” Wooyoung replied, watching as San turned and walked to the door.

“Have a good rest of your day!” He added, remembering his trained response.

“Bye-bye!” San called back as he opened the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Wooyoung’s scowl was back.

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

The next day Wooyoung found himself checking the clock often. 

As the afternoon rolled in, he knew he should be expecting it, but he still felt his heart skip whenever the bell on the door rang. He took calming breaths and tried to prepare himself, yet when San came in he didn’t feel ready. He wished he had gotten more sleep, but he had been up late completing an assignment.

He tucked a loose strand of hair out of his face, securing it behind his ear, avoiding looking at the door. He didn’t know what he should do with his face.

San approached the counter.

“Hi.” He said with a wave.

Wooyoung looked up at him, not bothering to put on his practiced cheerful, customer-face.

“Hey. What can I get for you?” he asked neutrally.

“Mm… an Americano, and a slice of the chocolate thing.”

Wooyoung’s eyebrows went up at that. San must have liked the slice Wooyoung had given him yesterday. He nodded, completing the transaction with him, before writing San’s name on the cup out of habit. He made the Americano and went over to the spot on the counter he knew San would sit, before fetching the slice of chocolate loaf from the display case right next to him. He felt San's eyes on him the entire time, but it was less disconcerting today.

Wooyoung handed the treat over. San smiled at him.

“Thank you, Wooyoung.”

“You’re welcome…” He watched as San took a sip of his burning hot Americano, seemingly unaffected by the scalding temperature.

“So, you like chocolate?”

San nodded.

"I do. I like this chocolate loaf thing you made."

"Thanks..."

Wooyoung was going to turn around, but he paused.

"Next time you should try the chocolate croissants. I usually make those too. They're really good, in my opinion." 

San nodded, taking his fork and putting too-big of a bite into his mouth. He gave a barely decipherable "okay!" around his mouthful, struggling to keep everything in. His cheeks bulged out as he began to chew purposefully. 

Wooyoung snorted a little, throwing a hand on his hip. San was unexpectedly cute when he ate. Which was a strange thought. What had he been expecting? 

His mind flashed to an image of Eve, his green tree python, draped over a branch in her terrarium.

Maybe that’s more what he imagined. 

He remembered Yeosang's reaction when he had first moved into the apartment, how utterly disgusted he was when he saw Wooyoung feed Eve a mouse thawed from the freezer. The image of her clutching the rodent tightly as she worked her mouth over it was horrendous, but he couldn't help but watch her whenever feeding time came. Yeosang had run off to his room cursing the snake while Wooyoung calmy watched her eat. 

Maybe he did like weird things.

A glint caught his eye. He looked at the silver earrings dangling prettily in San's ear. His gaze slipped down to San's sleeveless shirt, at the thin yet muscular arms that extended from equally pale shoulders. His biceps were well defined, he must work out. He remembered that Yeosang had called San 'hot'.

San cleared his throat, forcing Wooyoung to zone back in.

"You're staring." He said simply.

Wooyoung's face flushed. "Like _you_ have any right to say that."

San smiled. In a lighter, almost childlike voice he asked, "Do you like what you see?"

Wooyoung scoffed, turning around quickly.

"I gotta get back to work."

Weird things certainly seemed to like _him._

As he handled a customer's order, Yeosang came from the back, carrying a fresh plate of pastries. He stopped next to Wooyoung abruptly.

"Oh, hot guy's back." He said in a hushed tone, gently nudging Wooyoung's back with his elbow.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes.

" _Yeah_ , I noticed."

"I'm gonna talk to him."

"Good luck with that." Wooyoung replied dryly.

He saw Yeosang fix his posture out of his peripheral, straightening himself up before walking over to the display case and kneeling to open it.

Wooyoung focused on the next customer, trying to let Yeosang's deep voice blur into the background chatter.

As he turned to grab the decaf, he saw out of the corner of his eye San smiling, responding to Yeosang's questions cheerily. 

His eye twitched.

Yeosang was just wasting his time. San hadn't been coming in the last few days to stare at _Yeosang,_ after all.

Not that Yeosang wasn't attractive. Wooyoung would be the first to admit his best friend was _very_ attractive, just not his type. Sometimes when they got drunk they'd make out, mostly to shock or amuse their friends, who would either be disgusted or holler encouragement.

Afterwards on multiple occasions it would draw people to them to proposition them. Yeosang had hooked up with some very good looking men because of it.

Wooyoung bit his lip. 

Yeosang was soon walking past him again. 

“He’s nice.” he said quietly. “A little awkward, but nice.”

Wooyoung snorted. 

“That’s a charitable way of saying _weird_.”

Yeosang shrugged, turning towards the back.

“Doesn’t seem that weird to me.”  
  


When Wooyoung's shift ended he went into the back to grab his backpack, shoving his apron inside. When he came back Yeosang was at the counter playing with a sugar packet.

“You good?” Wooyoung asks the other.

“Yeah, I’m good. See you at home.” Yeosang replies, leaning against the counter and pulling out his phone.

“Cool, see you at home.” Wooyoung says.

He considers saying goodbye to San as well, but noticed that the other had stood up, and was cleaning his items, placing his plate in the bin settled on the trash can at the other end of the café.

So Wooyoung just headed for the exit, pulling the straps on his backup further onto his shoulders.

He opened the door, before realizing that San was also leaving.

No… no _way._

He took a few steps down the sidewalk, before turning around to confirm that San was indeed leaving.

He'd better _not_.

San steps out, making eye contact with Wooyoung who is frozen stiff. Wooyoung opens his mouth before closing it, trying a few times to get words to come out.

“You…”

“See you tomorrow!” San says smiling, before starting down the sidewalk in the opposite direction.

“Oh. Bye.” Wooyoung replied, a bit flabbergasted.

He started walking, shoulders sagging in relief and confusion.

He had thought for a second San was going to follow him.

He had expected him to.

It felt weird almost, that he hadn’t.

Wooyoung shook his head, cursing himself.

What is _wrong_ with him?

  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Wooyoung knew when San came in the next day. 

As he worked he could see out of his peripheral that a line of customers had formed. He hadn’t bothered to check for San in the line, he didn’t _need_ to. His senses had come alight, he felt the stare.

He threw his hair up and called back to Yeosang to come help him with the numerous orders, having the other take over making some of the more complicated beverages while he accepted payment and doled out black coffee from the pitcher. A few customers in, he looked up and confirmed that the man that had come in to watch him each day was back. Maybe that wasn't the right word. Admire him?

He took San’s order, a plain coffee and a chocolate croissant, before returning to the line that had formed.

When he finished he went to the display case, looking at San’s reaction to the pastry. He had given the recommendation after all.

“So how is the --”

“You look nice tod-- oh, sorry, what?” San said, interrupting Wooyoung and then himself.

Wooyoung sputtered for a moment.

“Wait- what?”

San leaned in his chair, head tilting as he inspected Wooyoung from a new angle.

“You look nice today, I was saying. Your hair. You put it up today. It looks good like that, too. But sorry, what were you saying?”

Wooyoung’s hands instantly went to his ponytail, high up on the back of his head. He had done it quickly and sloppily to keep cool while he worked. He cleared his throat and brushed the loose strands out of his face, which he hoped wasn’t turning pink.

“I, uh… was wondering if you liked the croissant.”

San did like it, and somehow Wooyoung found himself talking with the other about pastries they liked, what local restaurants were good, what his favorite dishes are. The conversation was an easy one, easier than most conversations that he was forced to have while he worked.

“I tried to be a vegetarian a while back.” Wooyoung mused, leaning his hand on his cheek, draped over the counter in a way that was less than professional.

“But it only lasted two weeks. I couldn’t keep it up. I love meat too much.”

San nodded happily, eyes flicking down to Wooyoung’s mouth.

“I’m glad you couldn't! That would be such a shame. I _really_ love meat...”

Wooyoung frowned. The image of Eve finishing a mouse came to mind, its dead legs dangling helplessly. He lifted himself off the counter, suddenly realizing how close he had been to the other. San watched him straighten up with an unreadable expression.

The door chimed mercifully.

“Oh, I gotta get back.” Wooyoung said, awkwardly gesturing to the register behind him.

After he had handed the customer their bagel and plain black coffee, Wooyoung’s ears picked up Yeosang's deep laugh. 

He turned to see his coworker standing next to the display case- or really, San, no tray of replenishments in sight.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, so Yeosang was still trying, huh? He must really need some dick. Way to bark up the wrong tree. Exasperated, Wooyoung went to retrieve his friend.

“--and I love what you did to your hair.” Yeosang was commenting, reaching a hand forward to the red streaks in the sea of black on San’s head.

Wooyoung suppressed a laugh as San leaned far away from the touch.

“Thanks, my friend Hwa did it...” San replied, tone shyer than Wooyoung had heard it before. He brightened when he saw Wooyoung.

“Hi Wooyoung!”

“Hey, San.” Wooyoung said, sidling up next to Yeosang who had dropped his hand with a pout.

“Yeosang, we’re running low on dark roast beans. Could you run to the back and get more?”

Yeosang nodded reluctantly, like Wooyoung knew he would, knowing he wouldn’t want to be the one to keep watch on the door.

When they worked together Wooyoung usually stayed up front, since Yeosang preferred to keep customer interactions to a minimum. It seemed that San was an exception, though.

Wooyoung went back to the register, trying to ignore San's smile that was still beaming at him.

When his shift finally ended, uneventfully, he noticed San once again was bussing his spot at the counter, same as the day before.

Wooyoung tensed, shoulders shrinking in as he made for the exit.

But again, same as yesterday, San just followed him out of the restaurant, bid him goodbye, and walked down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. Wooyoung was again, a bit confused yet relieved.

The next day was similar: a coffee-pastry combo, a quick chat, a rescue from Yeosang, then a goodbye at the end of his shift.

It was a predictable cycle.

  
  


"Have a good one!" Wooyoung called out, wiping down the espresso machine he had just gotten some frothed up milk on.

Today, a customer had come in just as he had given San his muffin and Americano, so they didn’t have a chance to have their normal smalltalk. If you could call it that.

He didn’t know why that mattered to him. San was a creep after all, coming in every day because he had some weird infatuation with him. But it felt wrong to not go back over to where the other was seated at the counter. To not adhere to their recently established routine.

Wooyoung walked over and leaned against the display case, a bit surprised to not have San’s attention already.

San was still focused on his muffin and coffee, looking aimlessly around the fairly empty café while he chewed.

Wooyoung felt almost _comfortable_.

“You’re not staring as much today.” He noted aloud.

San looked at him, roughly swallowing the contents of his cheeks. He frowned, eyebrows furrowing in worry.

“Do you want me to look at you more? You’re pretty, Wooyoung. Today, too.”

Wooyoung huffed out a laugh, his face getting hot. Did San think he was _insecure_ because the other wasn’t looking at him?

“What?? That’s not what I meant! I mean -- _no one_ wants to be watched all the time. It’s freaky.” 

“I don’t watch you all the time."

Wooyoung gave him a look that said _rea_ _lly?_

San fumbled with his coffee, shakily setting it back on the counter.

"I mean, _do_ I? I didn't realize…"

San was fiddling with his cup, short nails scratching at the material, looking for something to catch on.

He continued, voice small.

"I'm sorry. I must have made you really uncomfortable."

Wooyoung stared at him, weird guilt bubbling in his stomach.

San pulled his lower lip into his teeth, angling his head down and making his long nose even longer. His hair fell into his eyes messily, making him look like a stray. Wooyoung's tongue was caught in his throat.

He didn't know what to say. 'It's okay' didn't seem appropriate. But it was the first thing to come to mind, the urge to comfort San to ease the tension came so naturally to him.

"I got used to it, I guess? But uh, yeah, I was."

San’s frown didn’t lift. He stared at his coffee.

“Oh.” Was the reply.

The seconds dragged on, Wooyoung racked his brain for something to say, for some distraction, _anything,_ but nothing was coming to mind. Eventually the door’s bell chimed, and Wooyoung was forced to go handle it.

The customers were a group of teenage girls, so highschool must be out by now. His shift would be over soon. He made the various drinks and grabbed their desired pastries, feeling weird about the lack of eyes on him the entire time.

He glanced at San a few times. His head was still down, muffin forgotten. He simply peeled at the label of his coffee cup that he had finally managed to rip into.

They continued this way until Wooyoung’s shift ended. 

When Wooyoung threw his backpack on and rounded the corner to the front of the shop, he was almost relieved to see San was cleaning his items in preparation to leave. The coffee cups label was shreds on the counter.

"See you at home, Sangie." He said, breezing past Yeosang to the door, flinging it open and stepping out.

He took a few steps in the direction of his apartment before he stopped. There was a dark cloud in his mind swirling. It twisted angrily, confusingly, rooting Wooyoung to the spot to try and not upset it further. He turned and looked back from where he came.

Was San going to say goodbye today? He was certainly taking his time coming out.

Would he come in tomorrow..? 

Maybe he would stop coming in altogether.

A deep sense of discomfort overtook him, and he found himself lurching forward, almost seasick. He took a few steps in the opposite direction of his apartment, turning on his heel so he was facing the cafè. 

He waited.

San finally emerged. He veered in Wooyoung's direction in a fast-walk, head down. He clearly hadn’t been planning on saying goodbye. Wooyoung felt a spark of anger.

He stepped in San’s way, causing the other to startle. Their eyes met and San's widened, before dropping to the ground again fearfully.

Wooyoung put a hand on his hip, huffing in frustration as he waited for San to look at him again. San’s eyes remained trained at the sidewalk. He clenched his fists, burying his nails in his palms. Wooyoung watched the other's knuckles quiver under the force. His frustration waned.

He sighed. “San. Look at me.”

San slowly lifted his head, his eyes were conflicted, confused.

Still, they were on him.

“There. That’s better.” Wooyoung said. He rewarded San with his most dazzling smile.

He heard San’s breath hitch as his eyes widened, face going slack-jawed when he forgot to close his mouth.

Wooyoung giggled. 

It felt kind of good to surprise San, to make him react this way. Maybe Wooyoung was soft, or maybe he was just kinda stupid, but it felt… exciting.

He still didn’t know exactly what San’s deal was, why he hadn’t just asked him out like a normal person. Why he was so... unnerving.

Wooyoung thought of the confusion he experienced the day before yesterday outside the shop, when San first had waited for his shift to end to leave. He fiddled with his sleeve. 

“Hey, San?” He asked.

“Yeah?” San breathed.

Wooyoung giggled again, amused by how his brain had formed his question, but he didn’t bother to rephrase it.

“Do you want to follow me home?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind comments on the last chapter!!  
>   
> I really really really appreciate it! 💚  
>   
> Seriously, it makes me want to write so much more, thank you!

Wooyoung walked home with an eerie sense of calm.

His admirer was a few steps behind him, adjusting the distance from him sporadically, sometimes following very closely before catching himself and stopping to allow several feet to grow between them.

Wooyoung was slightly mortified, maybe he shouldn't have said the word, 'follow'.

When they reached his apartment building Wooyoung held the door open wider and for longer than usual, the tension in the air made him unsure if the other man was about to bolt or continue with him into the complex.

Wooyoung didn't look behind him as he rounded the corner and stomped up the stairs, releasing a shaky sigh when he heard another set of steps echoing behind him in the stairwell. 

He strode across the shabby carpeted hallway to his apartment, unlocking it and turning around.

"Do you want to come inside?"

Wooyoung’s eyes were drawn to San's veined neck, to his adam’s apple that bobbed before he answered.

"Yes." 

Wooyoung smirked, he went in, ignoring the kitchen/living room to head up the stairs of their split-level, leading San into the first room of the landing.

"This is my room." He announced.

Wooyoung liked his room, and was happy to show it off, despite it being slightly cluttered and his bed was unmade. He looked around at his BTS posters illuminated by white christmas lights, his ivy on the windowsill that dangled down to the dark expanse of his queen size bed. He smiled.

San stepped inside like he was seeing a new world, sweeping his head around to take everything in.

Wooyoung walked over to his bed and flopped down, leaning back heavily on his hands. He watched San explore, the other was curiously looking through the albums and books on his shelf, fingers grazing over their spines as he read the titles.

San made his way to Wooyoung's desk. He ghosted his hand over the documents.

“You're a student?”

Wooyoung nodded. “Just gen ed stuff right now. I’m in a performing arts school, haven’t decided what to specialize in yet.”

San nodded as he continued to look around, he settled on a picture of Wooyoung on stage.

"So you perform?"

Wooyoung hummed.

"Yeah. I did some plays in middle school and high school. I started doing dance in high school."

San ventured to the edge of the glowing terrarium next to his nightstand.

“How old are you?” Wooyoung decided to ask.

“21.” San answered, peering around the tank at him.

“Oh so you’re older than me. I don’t turn 21 until November.”

“What day?

Wooyoung smiled, he knew San would ask.

“The 26th.”

San finally looked inside the tank.

“You have a snake.”

Wooyoung pushed himself off the bed, moving to kneel on the opposite side of the terrarium and look in. San’s face was bathed in the greenish glow from the heat lamp reflecting off of the lush greenery in the terrarium. Eve was awake, slowly moving along a branch towards him.

“Her name’s Eve. She’s a green tree python.” Wooyoung explained, watching San’s eyes get wider with curiosity as the snake held her head up to look at him, tongue flicking out to smell the newcomer.

Wooyoung breathed out a laugh.

San’s eyes snapped to him, he took a visibly deep breath.

“You’re so pretty when you laugh.” He said quietly.

Wooyoung looked down, clearing his throat.

“You keep saying that.” He mumbled, standing. He walked over to his selection of incense and carded through the boxes, needing something to do.

“That you’re pretty?” San asked. Wooyoung hummed to affirm.

“Because it’s true.” San said, tone slightly offended. 

Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he pulled a stick of sandalwood incense out of its box. He grabbed his lighter off the desk, not expecting San to continue, but he did.

 _“_ You're _beautiful,_ Wooyoung _._ And sweet, and like, insanely cool. I can’t believe I’m here right now. It’s like a dream.”

Wooyoung froze, thumb finishing its movement of flicking down the sparkwheel of the lighter and landing heavily on its fuel release. The spark died out in a pathetic puff of smoke.

He felt his face burn.

San stood and continued to explore, walking over to Wooyoung’s dresser to look through the knick knacks displayed there. 

Wooyoung hears the hiss of the lighter, still releasing butane under his thumb. He snaps himself out of it and flicks it again, moving the stick of incense over the flame until the end burns red.

As he turns to place the stick in the holder, something catches his eye. Out of his peripheral, he sees San’s arm move sharply. Wooyoung keeps his back turned but angles his head just enough to see, identifying the white-on-black paisley pattern of one of his headband bandanas being shoved into San’s pocket.

Wooyoung looks forward, back to the task at hand, gently guiding the incense into its holder.

He watches the tendrils of smoke float up, sighing loudly to mask the sound of San’s rustling.

Wooyoung goes to sit at his desk, spinning his chair around so he could continue to watch San’s activities. He watched as San inspected an intricate souvenir sugar skull, before gently tapping an earring on his jewelry tree, wondering if the other was acting any differently now, maybe more nervous or cautious after stealing. He studied San’s careful demeanor, his face, frustrated that it only showed a mix of curiosity and awe. Wooyoung suddenly felt a little creepy himself.

When San had finally moved on to looking over each of the posters on his walls, Wooyoung decided he had had enough.

“Okay, I have some work to do, so I’ll see you out now.”

San nodded a little too quickly, but dragged his feet in joining Wooyoung in the doorway. He swiveled his head around the space, clearly trying to commit it to memory.

Wooyoung eventually took San’s wrist, gently dragging him down the stairs to the front door.

He opened the door and released the other, shaking his head at the way San’s eyes lingered on his own arm where they had made contact.

San appeared to be a little dazed as he stepped out of the apartment, Wooyoung hoped he hadn’t broken him.

Despite that, he still found himself saying goodbye in a way that was likely to overwhelm the older after the day he’d had.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, right?”

San is back in the coffee shop the next day. They keep up their routine of making small talk and leaving at the same time, but now, San follows him home.

San follows closer than he did yesterday, and Wooyoung kicks himself for setting this precedent. It _feels_ like it looks suspicious. Like he was an idiot teenager again, about to sell another simpleton weed. When they reached the front of his apartment building, Wooyoung turned to face San.

“I’ve got a lot of work to do today, so… Goodbye.”

San visibly deflates, but he nods and smiles, clearly trying to hide his disappointment.

“Okay. Bye!" He replies, sticking his hands in his pockets and turning to walk the other way.

Wooyoung just rubs the back of his neck, grimacing at the sheen of sweat. God, he could use a shower.

This continues the next day as well, like it was added to the schedule. It’s just part of their daily routine. Wooyoung isn’t quite sure what San gets out of it. Is it like, walking someone you like home or something? He doesn’t know.

He didn’t want to think about it, not tonight anyway. He had finished work and practicing his latest routine, and he just wanted to sit back and watch something trashy on TV.

He stretched himself out on the living room couch, switching over to netflix so he could browse through his options.

The front door opens, and in comes his roommate and coworker. 

“Yo! Welcome back!” Wooyoung called, straining his neck from the couch to see the other.

“I’m home.” Yeosang called back in a tired voice, as he leaned his skateboard against the wall near the stairs.

Yeosang walked over to the couch, eyes going to the TV.

“Haven’t decided on something yet.” Wooyoung explained. “How was work?”

“I think San likes you.” Yeosang said, ignoring the question.

Wooyoung sat up on the couch, turning to face the older, who was making his way around the other couch to sit.

“He always smiles when you talk to him.” Yeosang continued. “He doesn’t do that with me. And he stares at you a lot, did you notice that?”

“Yeah... I did.” Wooyoung replied, feeling quite guilty. He wonders what Yeosang would think about San following him home, and now he really regrets setting that precedent.

“He sorta hit on me the first day he came in, but he was just so _weird_ about it... I don’t know, sorry for not telling you earlier, I know you were interested in him.”

Yeosang leaned forward and smacked Wooyoung on the leg.

“Yeah, I was. Bad friend.” 

“Whaaat? You were just _horny,_ you weren’t actually that into him.”

“Well, _now_ I’m not. It's like he comes in just to see you! You were right, he _is_ weird.”

“Hey! Who _wouldn’t_ want to see me? I’m _gorgeous!_ ”

Wooyoung flipped his hair dramatically for emphasis.

“Ugh. You narcissist. Seriously though, I would hate for someone to stare at me so much. He does it, like, a lot.”

“Yeah… I don’t think he knows he’s doing it. I’ve asked him about it and he just told me that I’m pretty.”

Yeosang made a face.

“He sounds kind of obsessed.”

Wooyoung waved his hand.

“He’s harmless, he’s just a bit infatuated! I mean, _look_ at me.”

Yeosang rolled his eyes.

“That's an awfully charitable way of saying someone’s a creep, Woo.”

Yeosang stood, walking around the back of the couch, shaking his head the whole time.

“Well I just thought you should know, but I guess leave it to you to be vain enough to actually enjoy the attention.”

Wooyoung grinned wolfishly, crossing his arms and leaning back into a more comfortable position on the couch. He put on a high baby-talk tone of voice.

“Aw, is Yeosang jealous? Do _you_ need some attention, too? C’mere!” 

Wooyoung pushed his lips out and made kissy noises at his utterly disgusted best friend.

“Ugh. Weirdo.” Was his reply, as Yeosang jogged up the stairs.

Wooyoung just smiled.

Maybe he was.

  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

Days go by, Wooyoung surprisingly is content with the certain customer that watches and follows him home now, a normal presence in his life, like he got a dog.

Except now he feels Yeosang’s eyes on him as well, or more specifically, them, whenever he and San talk.

When he passes by his coworker, Yeosang rolls his eyes at him in a way that clearly expresses that he cannot believe Wooyoung is entertaining this guy, still convinced that Wooyoung actually enjoys the attention enough to ignore the abnormality of it all.

And maybe he kind of does?

He also sees how Yeosang now eyes San a bit suspiciously when he thinks he's not looking, and he knows his friend must be a bit worried. He's an adult though, he doesn't need Yeosang to fawn over him.

Today was a Saturday, he and Wooyoung were both working and so was the part-timer, Yunho. The café was full of students and freelance workers, so both Yunho and Wooyoung were at the front handling customers.

Wooyoung handed a woman her chai and turns to tidy up, when he feels a hand on his arm.

He looks quizzically at Yunho, who pulls him over to the register and hunches over slightly.

"Uh, Yunho?' Wooyoung tries, thoroughly confused.

Yunho lets go but leans in, voice lowered.

“Hey, uh, Wooyoung?”

“Yeeeah?”

“Um, I don’t know if you noticed, but there’s a guy who’s been staring at you. He’s at the end of the counter.”

Wooyoung sighs and shifts so he can see San from around his coworker. San is looking at Yunho with narrowed eyes, but as Wooyoung peaks out his gaze snaps to him. Wooyoung offered a shy smile and a wave, pleased when the other waved back eagerly before hesitantly moving his attention to his phone. Wooyoung smiled at that, maybe San was at least trying to make him more comfortable.

Wooyoung leaned back to address Yunho.

“That’s just San--”

“Oh, you finally noticed?” Yeosang cut in, sauntering out of the back as if he were summoned by the hushed tone of gossip. 

Yeosang placed a hand on his hip, making a show of flipping his other hand over to inspect his nails with disinterest.

“That’s just Wooyoung’s stalker.” he said matter-of-factly.

“What!?” Yunho whisper-yells. "What do you mean??"

Wooyoung wants to pipe up, wants to say that _no_ , San isn’t a _stalker_ but is stopped by the sudden question _‘is he_?’ that pops to mind. He hadn't thought about it. Is this what getting stalked feels like?

“Oh, yeah." Yeosang continued, "Comes in everyday, but not to like, work or anything. Just plays on his phone watches Woo. He leaves when Wooyoung does, too.”

Wooyoung deflates at the purposefully casual tone that Yeosang is using, hearing his own naive attitude about the situation from the other was more embarrassing than he thought it’d be.

Yunho responded with a small shudder.

“Woah, really? Dude, I only just noticed today, has this been going on long? Are you okay, Wooyoung? Has he been bothering you?”

Wooyoung waved his hand quickly.

“Nonono, it’s fine, he's--”

“He likes the attention.” Yeosang interrupted him.

Wooyoung rounded on him.

“I do not!!”

Yunho was laughing at him, which made Yeosang chuckle as well as he repeated the ridiculous claim. Wooyoung felt his ears burn. The bell of the door chimed.

“Shouldn’t you be in the back or something?” He snapped at Yeosang. Frustratingly, he didn't have either of his coworkers’ attention. They were looking over his shoulder, Yeosang’s jaw had dropped.

Wooyoung turned around, following the others' line of sight to the customer that had just entered. The man was beautiful, he looked like he belonged in a painting in a museum, not their humid little café. He was not approaching the register, but making his way to the barstools at the other end of the counter, beelining for San.

“Woah.” Yeosang said, prompting a giggle from Yunho.

“So that’s your type huh?” asked the tallest with a smile.

“Pretty sure _that_. Is everyone’s type.” Yeosang said seriously, leaning his head forward to try to get wind of what the tall stranger was saying. The bustle was too loud, he quickly gave up.

He turned to Wooyoung.

“How does he know your boy?”

Wooyoung shook his head, ignoring the ‘your boy’, now processing how and why this objectively handsome guy’s hand was on San’s shoulder as he spoke to the other with a serious face.

San was nodding his head and quickly grabbing his things, looking a bit like a scolded child. He suddenly made eye contact with Wooyoung, waving sheepishly at him while mouthing a “bye”.

Wooyoung waved back, noting that the hand had moved to San’s upper back, being used to usher San through the cafe and out the door.

“God, who _was_ that?” Yeosang asked, once they had cleared the vicinity.

“Maybe his boyfriend?” Yunho offered.

“What??” Both Yeosang and Wooyoung exclaimed.

“That _can’t_ be his boyfriend.” Yeosang whined. “I can’t have that rotten of luck. I just can’t.”

“Hey I’m just sayin’” Yunho defended, turning to wipe down the counter.

“Ugh, why did they leave? He was so good looking. Has he come in before?”

Wooyoung shook his head.

“No, never.” He replied. 

Wooyoung bit his lip, gripping his palms tight, racking his brain and coming up empty.

He didn’t know who the mystery man could be, because he didn’t really know anything about San. 

“Well at least I can ask San about him tomorrow. That’s my only luck, that one of the most gorgeous men I’ve ever seen knows Wooyoung’s stalker!” Yeosang huffed.

Wooyoung tried not to think about them for the rest of the day.

  
  


The following morning, to Wooyoung's surprise and displeasure, the handsome guy is back. The wrong handsome guy.

It surprises Wooyoung when he looks up and recognizes him right away, the other looking to the empty counter where San normally sits before making his way to the register.

Wooyoung looked to the empty counter as well, but he knew San wasn’t here yet. He didn’t usually arrive until mid-afternoon. 

“Hello.” The man greeted him. “Could I just get a plain black coffee? Medium, please.”

Wooyoung nodded and accepted the card extended to him, sliding it before turning around to grab the pitcher of coffee and a cup.

He fixed the lid and handed it to the man who was craning his neck and looking around the cafe.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks…”

The man checked behind him to where there would be a line before looking back at Wooyoung.

“Hey, um… Have you seen a guy with black hair with red streaks in it? Sometimes wears glasses, um, about yei-heigh?” He holds his hand up to demonstrate.

“San?” Wooyoung supplied.

The man looks a little surprised. 

“Yeah! You know him?”

Wooyoung nods. “Yeah, uh, he’s a regular.”

“Really…?”

The man sips his coffee.

Yeosang rounds the corner from the back quickly, freezing momentarily when he sees the beautiful stranger.

“So has he been in today?”

“Are you looking for San?” Yeosang asked, naturally slipping himself into the conversation.

He’s smiling a little too much for normal Yeosang, which is unnerving but Wooyoung is happy to have the backup.

The man looks at Yeosang, confusion painting his face.

“You know him, too? How much time has he been spending here…?”

“Of _course_ we get to know our regulars, how do you know him?” Yeosang asks, playing with his hair. Wooyoung almost laughs, he hides his smile behind his hand.

The man looked at his phone, brows furrowed.

“I work for him, kind of. With him.” 

“Oh, that’s-”

“ _Why_ doesn’t he answer his phone?” The man looks anxiously behind him at the entrance again, like San will appear if he keeps looking.

“He doesn’t usually come this early.” Wooyoung said.

“Yeah, he comes in for an afternoon pick-me-up, right? Are you in a hurry? I can let him know you’re looking for him when he gets here.” Yeosang added.

The man’s face softened into a soft smile.

“Yeah, um. That would be great actually, thank you.”

“Who can I say is looking for him?” Yeosang asked, inclining his head forward.

Wooyoung did laugh a little at that, he pretends to cough into his hand to cover it up.

“Seongwha.” The man replied, briefly glancing to Wooyoung.

“Seongwha. Got it. It’s nice to meet you!" Yeosang said, smiling sunnily.

The man rubbed his neck. “Likewise. Um, can you just tell San to come to the studio right away if he comes in? Thanks again-”

“Yeosang. Is my name. I’ll be sure to let him know.”

The man gave Yeosang a once over before turning around.

"Thanks again, Yeosang." 

Yeosang waved Seongwha goodbye with a pleasant, “Have a good day!”

When the door closed, Wooyoung just looked at his friend, amused. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask for his number.”

Yeosang gave him a satisfied smile. 

“He seemed like he was in a hurry, but I think I left a good impression."

Wooyoung laughed. “How fast did you run up here when you heard me talking to him?”

Yeosang nudged him with his shoulder.

“Pretty fast” he admitted, cheeks turning slightly pink. “So, San works with him?”

Wooyoung shrugged. “Seems like it? Dunno. I wonder if there's trouble at work or something.”

“Ask San when he comes in. Oh, and tell me when he gets here, I’ll be in the back.”

Wooyoung nodded and went back to restocking disposable cups.

When San came in, Wooyoung took his order and delivered it on autopilot, before remembering about the visit from Seonghwa.

“Oh, right! San, that guy from yesterday was here, Seongwha.”

San stiffened, stopping the motion of bringing the cup to his lips.

“He was?”

“Yeah, apparently you need to answer your phone. He said you need to come to the studio. What’s the ‘studio’?”

San stood, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking it hurriedly.

“Taekwondo studio.” he answered. “Shit.”

“Everything alright?”

“Uh, yeah… probably. I gotta go.”

“Is that San?” Yeosang called, coming to the front.

“I told you to come get me when he came, hey San-”

“Sorry, Yeosang! I can't talk today!”

“Wait- but-!”

“Bye, Wooyoung!” San called, coffee in hand as he rushed from the shop.

Wooyoung sighed, putting a hand on Yeosang's shoulder.

“Sorry, Sangie, already told him. Probably why he’s in such a hurry.”

Yeosang frowned.

“I wanted to ask about Seongwha…”

“Well I learned one thing. The ‘studio’ they’re going to is a Taekwondo studio.”

Yeosang leaned back.

“Taekwondo, huh?”

“I guess.”

“Maybe that’s why they’re so fit. Oh my god, he’s probably an awesome fighter. Ugh, why is that so _hot_?”

Yeosang grabbed Wooyoung's sleeve, pulling on it needily.

“Wooyounnng! Help me, he’s too hot!”

Wooyoung shook his head.

“I don’t know what you want _me_ to do, horndog!”

“I’m not just horny! Didn't you see the spark between us?”

“No-” 

“And his voice is so nice! Ugh, I hope he comes back. You gotta come get me if he comes back.”

Wooyoung just nodded, a little weirded out by how excited Yeosang was.

He half listened as his best friend, the man who had earlier described San as a creep, spend the next few minutes gushing over Seongwha, comparing him to a statue. 

He just smiled and shook his head.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is sort of just a setup chapter, hope you liked it nonetheless!


	7. Chapter 7

San didn't come in the next day.

Or the next.

Or the day after that.

Wooyoung approaches the cafe the following day feeling groggy and irritable. He shoved the door open with his shoulder, rolling off of it with a grunt, still slumping as he dragged his feet to the counter. 

He ignored Yeosang as he went to the back to deposit his backpack and don his apron, before coming back to the front of the shop, tying his hair back up he went.

Yeosang was throwing away old baked goods, he stood fully when he noticed Wooyoung return.

“Hey, Woo.” His friend greeted.

“Hey.” Wooyoung answered, unable to hide his low energy. He started to make a latte for himself.

He’s partway through frothing the milk when he notices something entering his line of sight on the counter. It’s a day-old blueberry scone on a paper takeout bag, being pushed towards him in faux-sneakiness by Yeosang.

Wooyoung accepts the treat with a tired smile.

“Sorry, I’m just-”

“It’s okay.” Yeosang answered. “I’m a little worried, too.”

Wooyoung scoffed, annoyed at the implication and that the elephant in the room was already being addressed. He hasn’t even had his coffee.

“Why would I be worried?”

Yeosang tilted his head.

“Well, I think it’s normal to be worried when someone suddenly isn’t following their routine. Haven’t pizza places like, saved lives by calling to check up on their customers who didn’t place their regular order? Because they like, fell or something?”

Wooyoung narrowed his eyes. “Has that really happened?”

“Yeah, I think so..? Whatever, man... How _do_ you feel, then?”

Wooyoung felt shame rip through him. Because worry _wasn’t_ the main thing on his mind. Rather, he was irritated, angry, and now guilty because of that anger.

He just felt ugly, inside and out.

“I don’t know, I… I don’t want to talk about it. Not right now.” He finally answered sullenly. He poured the milk into his cup of espresso, not bothering to use much care.

“Okay…" Yeosang said softly. He came up to Wooyoung and clutched his arm with both hands, tucking his head into his neck in a hug. Wooyoung allowed it, snuggling down into his friend's hair.

"Thanks." He said earnestly. 

Yeosang nodded against his shoulder. “At least we have Yunho’s party to look forward to?”

Wooyoung sighed, right. Yunho was having a party this Saturday. Being the extroverted person he was, he knew that his sour mood couldn’t survive a party, though it was hard to feel good about that now.

“Yeah, I guess. That’ll be fun.”

Yeosang let go of him and went back to work. Wooyoung sipped his coffee and took his scone to the back to eat in case someone came in. He threw some BTS on the kitchen stereo and tried to focus on the music.

That afternoon, Wooyoung played with his phone under the counter. The door chimed, but he continued to play. He doesn't look up at the door each time it chimes anymore, just waits the average 5 seconds it takes a customer to get to him before looking up to give his programmed greeting.

He’s about to recite it when a familiar voice sounds first.

"Wooyoung, hi!”

His head snapped up. 

San was standing in front of him, coated in a sheen of sweat and panting.

"San? What… where have you been?"

‘'I had--”

The bell on the door chimed again, causing San to look back anxiously. Wooyoung sighed, motioning San to go to his usual spot, quickly pouring him a glass of ice water before tending to the next patron.

When he finished serving them, he made quick work of an iced mocha and brought it over to San. He extended the drink to the other, flicking his wrist in little to swirl the ice and give it a little stir. San took the drink from him, shrinking in on himself.

"So?" Wooyong started, tone cold.

San flinched.

“I, uh, there was a tournament.”

“A tournament?”

“For Taekwondo?”

“Oh… For the last _three_ days?”

“For the last 5, actually. Today was the last day.”

Wooyoung remembered Seongwha, who had come in twice to get San before the other had disappeared. He wondered if San had been sneaking off to come see him.

His face softened.

“Oh. Uh… So, how was it?”

San smiled at him

“Well I competed in a few categories. Monday and Thursday was all youth and juniors, so I didn’t compete but a lot of my students were participating so-”

“Students? You teach?”

San nodded.

“Mhm..! So, anyway...“

Wooyoung listened to San go over the tournament for a surprisingly long time before another customer arrived. It was the most he’d ever heard San speak. He loosened up and chatted happily about how his students and even Seongwha performed during the events, rather than go into the details of his own matches, merely mentioning his events and placements. Wooyoung didn’t know most of the terminology San was using, or care much about Taekwondo, but he watched intently the way that San seemed to light up when talking about the kids he worked with, and how excited he was about the sport.

When he finally did have to go back to the register to greet the next customer, he did so reluctantly. 

As he was working, he heard Yeosang come from the back, beelining to San, most likely to question him more about Seongwha than anything else.

When he had finished he went back to the two, catching the tail end answer to one of Yeosang’s questions.

“-like accounting and helping with advertising. Basically managing the business since that’s what he went to school for. I’m trying to learn more from him so I can help out.”

“Oh, but you teach him Taekwondo, too, so it seems pretty even.”

San nodded.

“I hope so, or at least I hope it becomes that way. I’m supposed to inherit the studio but all I can do is teach and help manage the schedule. I would be at a loss without him.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Wooyoung asked, stepping into the conversation.

Yeosang glanced at him, before his eyes pointed off into the distance, unseeing.

“Seongwha. He has been helping manage the Taekwondo studio ever since San’s father retired.”

“Really? That’s cool.”

Yeosang grinned at him.

“Uh-huh! It seems like he and San have been good _friends_ since early highschool. Nice, right? Anyway, glad to have you back, San!” Yeosang said with a smile. 

Yeosang just happily made his way to the kitchen, victorious in his information gathering.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes and went back to work. 

  
  


Later, as expected, San followed him home.

When they reached his apartment complex, Wooyoung turned and stared at San, his stomach churning with anxiety.

He wasn't ready to say goodbye.

San raised a brow, hands in his pockets. He tilted his head as the seconds ticked on and Wooyoung said nothing.

Wooyoung finally cleared his throat and flicked his head in the direction of the door.

“You coming?”

San’s lips part in surprise, but he nods.

Today is a feeding day for Eve, so when he enters the apartment he makes a left into the kitchen. He takes the bowl with the defrosting mouse out of the fridge and sets it on the counter. San dutifully follows him around the kitchen, obeying Wooyoung when asked to grab two glasses of lemonade to bring up to his room.

San follows him up the stairs and into his bedroom. Wooyoung places the mouse bowl on the end table, stripping the plastic wrap off of the bowl and scrunching his nose before moving to the bathroom.

“Put the drinks anywhere. And could you light some incense? Sorry for the smell, I know it’s bad.”

He chucks the cellophane in the bin before washing his hands. He carefully put his tongue ring, wondering how San was going to react to it. He had stopped wearing it while interviewing and when he had started work, but luckily the hole hadn’t closed. He always put it in during his free time.

He snapped a latex glove on his right hand and exited the bathroom.

When he entered his bedroom, San was sitting at the desk chair, looking around again with interest. He looked to Wooyoung when he entered and gave a goofy smile that made Wooyoung stop dead in his tracks. The smoke spiraled up from the incense beautifully. The smoke had already created a wall of scent in the room, wrapping him in comfort. 

Wooyoung cleared his throat, composing himself before strutting over to the terrarium. He looked at San as he opened the lid.

“If I sound any different, it’s because of this.”

He stuck out his tongue, and the look on San’s face almost made him giggle. He resisted though, enjoying the way San’s eyes widened as they fixated on the metal stud decorating his tongue, his entire face melding into shock. The expression shifted to one Wooyoung could only describe as _want_.

Wooyoung dramatically curled his tongue up to touch his upper lip, lowering it to splay wickedly before pulling it back into his mouth.

He bit his lip as he refocused his attention, using his gloved hand to pick up a pair of tongs and pluck the mouse out of the bowl by its tail.

“You want to watch?” He asked, gaze briefly flicking to San again as he moved the mouse above the terrarium.

He saw San nod out of his peripheral, as he dangled the mouse in front of his snake to gain her interest.

Eve was roused, she righted her head and extended her torso so it was high enough to strike. She flicked her tongue a few times, smelling the mouse while her pupils grew and shrunk into slits.

She lunged her body forward, wrapping it around the mouse and pulling it back with her. She squeezed it tight as her mouth went wide to engulf the front of her prey.

She started to force her mouth over it, flipping upside down to allow gravity to assist in getting the mouse into her mouth. It was a slow process.

San crouched next to him, transfixed on the scene in front of him.

“Kind of gross, right?” Wooyoung asked, righting the lid back on the terrarium before removing the glove and shucking it into the trash.

“It’s…” San trailed off.

“...It’s?” Wooyoung prompted.

“Fascinating.”

Wooyoung hums at that, satisfied. As Eve swallows the mouse down slowly, he feels San’s eyes on him.

“Are you into this kind of stuff?” Wooyoung asked, turning to look at him.

San’s eyes glue to his tongue. Wooyoung smiles.

It takes San a second to start.

“Wha-?”

“Animals?”

San nodded for a few beats. “Yeah… I like animals. We’ve always had dogs. My dad likes to train them.”

Wooyoung frowned, looking forward. That with Taekwondo made San’s life seem so… disciplined.

“Do you feel trained, too?” He asked softly.

San looked back at the tank as well.

He cleared his throat.

“Sometimes.” His voice was small.

Wooyoung stood, going to his desk to grab his vape.

It felt like a day to get a little high.

He looked around his desk with a frown.

“Where’d I put the juice?” He mumbled to himself.

He wandered around his room in search, noticing San was helping him, though he probably had no idea what he was looking for.

As he walked around to an area by the bed San was previously searching, he saw an empty spot on the floor that he clearly remembered leaving his boxer-briefs this morning, in his hurry to get in the shower.

He rolled his eyes, his attention getting caught by the windowsill.

The container of vape-juice is sitting next to his english ivy, that he really should water.

“Found it.” He announced.

“Oh, okay.” San answered. He was still standing awkwardly next to the dresser where he had been searching.

Wooyoung grabbed the TV remote off the desk.

“Yo, San.”

Wooyoung tossed the remote, which San caught easily.

“Throw on some music you like.” He said simply, as he grabbed his vape to refill. He figured they could listen to a little music before he asked San to go.

San nodded. “Okay.” before flicking the TV. He found a playlist of Stray kids songs, and Wooyoung found himself nodding in approval.

Wooyoung flopped back on the bottom half of the bed, extending his arm to pat the space left open, to motion for San to join him. The other complied, scooting back to lean against the wall. He pulled his knees to himself and watched Wooyoung.

Wooyoung inhaled the vape deeply, letting the feeling settle over him. He exhaled, eyes wandering from the cloud of smoke to the music video playing on TV.

As they watched, his missing boxers came back to mind. 

Freaking San, at this rate he wouldn't have _any_ clothes. Next time he'd be sure to put everything away first.

He inhaled again, freezing on his exhale as he realized he expected there to be a next time.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> San was really neglecting his duties, smh.  
> Thanks for reading, hope you like how it's developing so far!


	8. Chapter 8

Wooyoung had heard the pop song playing through the cafe a thousand times. He sang along softly under his breath as he wiped down the front of the display case absentmindedly. He greatly enjoyed the way the streaks of cleaner turned iridescent, and disappeared after a quick swipe of the towel. The view of the pastries he and Yeosang had made was more strikingly, satisfyingly clear.

When he stood and turned there was somebody right in front of him.

He jumped, heart stuttering in surprise as he reacted to the presence.

The figure stepped back quickly, raising his hands in defense.

“S-sorry!” San sputtered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

"San??" 

Wooyoung balked for a moment, eventually gathering his bearings and sighing. He rolled up the towel he was holding, tight but not oppressively so, before flicking it with a twirl towards the man in front of him. Wooyoung glared, pouting.

“Ah!” San grinned cheekily and gasped, failing to dodge the edge of the towel whipping at his forearm.

“You punk! Nearly gave me a heart attack!” Wooyoung eyed San up and down, trying to appear scolding but probably failing. He took his time in looking the other over, noting San’s broad shoulders yet slim, defined waist. His body swelled with muscles, but was still lithe, efficient. San began to squirm uncomfortably. Wooyoung cleared his throat and brushed past him, making his way back around the counter to take the other’s order.

He felt a sense of calm in taking San’s order and seeing him make his way back to his usual spot. Back to the regular routine.

Maybe Yeosang had been right, maybe he had been worried. The thought of San not coming in as scheduled bothered him. The thought of not knowing where San was had felt wrong. 

He handed San his coffee and scone. The other bowed lightly and accepted with a smile, like there was nothing wrong in the world. Wooyoung's jaw tightened.

“Hey. Give me your number.”

San perked up.

“O-oh! Okay!”

Wooyoung held up his phone, placing it authoritatively into San’s waiting hands. He tilted his head to the side, feeling hot all of a sudden.

“Just...you were gone for three days and that's not normal for you, and like...what if you _fell_ or something?”

San was typing in his number. He paused and looked at Wooyoung, cocking his head.

“If I _fell_?”

Wooyoung scoffed, looking away.

“I don't know! If something happened or something!”

“Oh...Okay? Sure.” 

San held the phone out, number entered and saved.

Wooyoung snatched it back.

“Whatever. You come here to see _me_ right? Then you should at least have the courtesy to tell me when you don't come! It’s just, polite or --”

San’s phone began ringing. Wooyoung realized that, out of habit, he had pressed ‘call,’ which he hadn’t meant to do.

San was grinning at his phone, typing fervently to save Wooyoung’s number as it had appeared. Wooyoung leaned over, watching as San selected one of the pictures he had taken of him as his contact picture. He cropped Wooyoung’s face, saving it while humming happily. Wooyoung’s eyebrows raised when he saw his contact name. He didn’t know San knew his surname.

“Tsk!” Wooyoung exclaimed and turned around, looking for something to busy himself with, something to do with his hands. He felt a bit shy. Just then Yeosang emerged from the back with a dish rack full of clean cups.

He approached the other and aggressively accepted the rack from him, moving to set it on the counter to begin stacking the new cups in their place.

Yeosang bristled as the task was taken from him, shock and confusion turning into pleasant surprise as he noticed the man at the counter.

“San! Hey!” He scampered over to the other.

“How are you doing? How’s the studio?”

San swallowed his coffee happily. “Mm, it's good! Taking it easy now that the tournament is over, gonna be celebrating everyone that participated this evening, then back to normal classes.”

“Oh, good. I'm glad you're getting back to your regular routine, man. We were worried about you here!”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, but slowed his movements to minimize the clinking of the ceramics, wanting to hear San’s reaction.

“Oh…you were? That’s really...nice.” San sounded sheepish, cute.

“Yeah, I was! You can't just go and disappear on us! I was wondering if you were gone for good, and Wooyoung--jeez, I haven't seen him so worked up since that stupid motherfucker--”

Wooyoung slammed his palm on the counter, promptly cutting him off and startling the two, as well as a few nearby customers. He felt his face heat up.

“Yeosang. Don't.”

Yeosang cleared his throat. 

“What?” San was asking, looking between the two.

“His ex--”

“I said _stop_ , Yeosang!” 

“Okay, okay! Sorry, Woo! Jeez…” Yeosang backed up to the counter, leaning back to put as much distance between both the conversation and Wooyoung as possible.

Wooyoung knew he was overreacting, but he couldn't help himself.

He didn’t want to hear it, didn’t want it to exist.

Wooyoung shook his head to clear it and rounded the corner to the kitchen. Yeosang would just have to handle customers for a while.

He stayed in the back for the remainder of the day. 

When his shift ended, Wooyoung left the cafe with San on his tail. 

San was quiet, like always, but today it was bothersome.

The tension from earlier was heavy, and he knew San isn’t unaffected, broad shoulders sagging.

Wooyoung worried his lip between his teeth as he walked. It’s not San’s fault that Yeosang decided to blab about his business. He quickened his pace, frustrated. He wanted to say something to ease the strain that he felt between them, too tight and too uncomfortable.

He glances over his shoulder, catching San’s eye immediately.

“San, I didn't mean to--shit!”

Wooyoung fell forward, tripping on an uneven crack in the sidewalk. As he stumbled, his arm and waist were caught, and he was pulled back upright. He was spun around, the uneven weight of his backpack swinging causing him to stumble further as he was smushed into a warm, firm chest.

He looked down at his feet, attempting to recalibrate. San's hands were still on him, balancing him. His body wash smelled good; tropical, juicy _._

"Thanks." Wooyoung said, finally looking up through his eyelashes bashfully.

San let go, pulling his limbs back with sharp movements. His cheeks were pink. "No problem." 

"I uh, wanted to say sorry for snapping earlier."

"It's okay." San replied, stepping around him. Wooyoung turns and begins walking alongside him. "If you ever want to talk about it--"

"I don't." Wooyoung cuts him off, a little too sharply. He sighed, eyebrows furrowed in irritation, more upset at himself than San.

"But…thanks. Really."

San smiled. "You're cute when you're mad."

Wooyoung's eyebrow twitched. Does this fucker think he's smooth?

"'scuse me?"

"You're, um--sorry. Nevermind."

Wooyoung softened. He really is too on-edge today. Stupid Yeosang. 

He looked at San, snapping his neck back dramatically, elongating it and ruffling his hair. He lowered his eyelids and pursed his lips to fully accentuate what he was trying to convey. That he was hot and he knew it. San's eyes were wide and glued to him. 

"I'm _always_ cute." He said with a wink that would have Yeosang's eyes rolling.

San nodded dumbly, and Wooyoung smirked. If anyone here was going to be suave, it should be him.

They approach Wooyoung's apartment complex, and San stops, planting his feet on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets. Wooyoung grips his backpack straps and looks at him, preparing to say goodbye when San beats him to it.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Wooyoung." 

Wooyoung nodded.

"Bye, San."

Wooyoung turns on his heel and goes into the complex. He heads straight for his room, slipping his pants off immediately and yanking off his overshirt. It was a good time of day: the time not to wear pants.

Wooyoung laid in bed, stretching himself out. He looked at Eve in her tank, awake and watching him. He swiped his vape pen from his bedside table and brought it to his lips, inhaling deeply.

"I gave San my number." He told the snake as he exhaled, voice low and thick with smoke. He watched as she curled in on herself.

"I wonder if he'll use it. He might text me 100 times a day or something…" he mused, carding a hand through his hair a few times, enjoying the feeling on his scalp.

He dropped his hand heavily onto the bed.

"Nah, he wouldn't do that. And if he did he'd probably stop if I told him to."

He took another hit, feeling his brain tingle as the high slowly crept in.

He looked at his ivy, dangling down into his view. He pursed his lips and blew at it, watching a few vines wiggle and leaves rustle together.

"Maybe he'll call and just breathe into the phone? Like in movies."

He laughed to himself.

"Just breathe heavily and jerk off to my voice? I wouldn't even have to say much, I bet." 

He turned over to face the ceiling, stretching his arms up with a yawn.

"He _definitely_ jerks off while thinking about me. He took my _underwear_ for Christ's sake. I bet he looks at my picture, wears my headband and--"

He gave an amused glance in his Eve's direction.

"Do you think he smells my underwear? Or uses them to jerk off? _Fuck_ , what a perv! I bet he does."

Wooyoung laughed, smirking to himself. The thought of San beating off while thinking about him made him strangely satisfied. 

"He thinks I'm so pretty~” he sing-songed, lolling his head from side to side on his pillow. 

He closed his eyes, thinking of napping, when his stomach growled.

"Welp, time to find something to eat." He sat up, swinging his feet off the bed. He gave a gentle pat to the top of his terrarium.

"Good chat, baby girl."

When Yeosang got home Wooyoung was on the couch watching music videos, fingers stained orange with cheese dust from the puffed cheese snack he was munching on.

"Yo!" Wooyoung called to him down the hall. "There's curry on the stove if you want some."

Yeosang nodded, hanging his jacket up.

Wooyoung went back to his mindless grazing, but Yeosang came into the living room, stance indicating he wanted to address him.

"Hey, sorry about today…” He shuffled from foot to foot uneasily. “I shouldn't have brought _him_ up. I know it's still a sore subject for you..."

Wooyoung glared at the coffee table. He wasn't in the mood for this.

"It's fine, Yeosang. I just…don't want to think about it."

"It would probably be good to think about it, though? Sort through what you're feeling and--"

"--and feel like shit about myself?" He interrupted Yeosang again, redirecting his scowl to him. "Because that's what happens, Yeosang. I feel like such an idiot, and like trash, and I just...I just can't deal with it." He deflated as he finished.

Yeosang came around the couch, hand finding its place on Wooyoung's shoulder to comfort him.

"Hey dude... it's okay. You can deal with this in time, but you _do_ gotta deal with it. You can't just break down at the mere mention of him."

Wooyoung leaned his head back onto the couch, running his hand over his face roughly and pulling the skin up as he slipped his fingers into his hair. He groaned.

"I'm too high to talk about this right now."

"You're high?"

"Yeah." He grabbed his vape pen from the coffee table and extended it to the other. Yeosang hesitated, before reaching forward and taking it, sitting next to him on the couch as he brought the device to his lips.

Yeosang exhaled, coughing off to the side.

Wooyoung plucked the vape from him and took a hit, sighing the smoke into the living room before handing it back to his best friend.

Yeosang took another hit, long and deep, attempting to catch up to Wooyoung's headspace as the other enjoyed the silence.

Eventually Yeosang tapped him, but Wooyoung just shrugged away, forcing the other to pick up his heavy hand and press the pen into it. Yeosang leaned back into the couch, shoulder bumping Wooyoung's.

"So San's back." Yeosang said.

"Yeah, he was back yesterday."

"True."

Wooyoung turned his head towards him.

"I gave him my number."

"You did?"

"Yeah."

"Do you like him?"

Wooyoung shrugged.

"I dunno. He's not bad."

"You said he was weird."

"He is."

Yeosang sat up quickly.

"You know what you should do?"

"What?"

"Invite him to Yunho's party."

Wooyoung's eyebrows pinched together.

"What? You…no, that'd be weird."

"Why would it be weird? It's a party."

"Because you told Yunho he was my stalker?"

"Oh yeahhhh!" Yeosang giggled, flopping back onto the couch with enough force to make Wooyoung bounce a little.

"That's _great_!" Yeosang said, giggling more.

Wooyoung laughed a little too, amused by his friend.

"But dude, I think you should! Maybe he's cool when he's not all, y'know?" Yeosang held up his hands and waved them nonsensically.

Wooyoung snorted.

"All what? No, I do not know."

"You _know!?!_ And whatever, if you don't wanna invite him I will. And I'll ask him to bring Seonghwa."

Wooyoung smacked him.

"You punk! You just want to see Seongwha! Don't act like this was about me!" He continued his assault, playfully hitting Yeosang on the arm.

"Self-serving little--!"

Yeosang smiled mischievously, leaning away from Wooyoung's smacks.

"Whaaaat?" He whined playfully.

"You thirsty bitch!"

"I'm nooot~! This is about you, too! You were a mopey bitch while San was gone!"

"I was not!"

"Yes you were! You're a needy little narcissist who missed his stalker!!"

Wooyoung groaned, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to his chest. 

"Aaaaahhhhg! Yeosaaaaang! What is _wrong_ with me?? You're…not wrong. Fuck, dude…Is it bad that I kind of like the attention?"

" _Yeah,_ you're fucked up!" 

"Waaaahhh~!" 

"--which is why you need me. I'm gonna get to know San, and see if he's a good guy. See if he's planning to chop you up or not."

" _Chop me up_?"

Yeosang nodded. "And put you in soup and eat you. He _looks_ at you like he wants to eat you. Or fuck you. Or fuck you, _then_ eat you."

Wooyoung wrinkled his nose.

"Gross. You watch too much TV."

"I'm just being pragmatic. You're too naive. Really, you're lucky to have me."

"Ppffft. Who needs you?"

Yeosang nudged him with his shoulder, several times, small urges to get Wooyoung to look at him.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes, but eventually relented, grabbing Yeosang's thigh and shaking it affectionately.

" _Okay. I_ do. I need you."

Yeosang holds it in, but eventually barks out a laugh.

Wooyoung shoves the thigh away as Yeosang cuddles into his shoulder. Wooyoung rested his head on the other's, humming in contentment.

"I'll invite him." Wooyoung said.

"Mm. Cool."

They sit in silence for a while, until it's finally broken by a long groaning gurgle. Wooyoung lifted his head and poked at the culprit, Yeosang's stomach. Yeosang groans weakly as he shoves himself off the couch.

"Fuck I'm hungry. Did you say there's curry?"

"Yeah, grab enough for two."

  
  


That night he dreamt of ants.

Hundreds of ants, swarming a bowl of apple slices on the kitchen counter, crawling in and tearing chunks of the fruit away. They're everywhere, crawling in from many directions, single goal clear.

Anxiety rose through him, bubbling over the edges of his mind as the ants began to crawl out the side of the bowl, victorious in their conquest.

Wooyoung clutches his face, raking his fingers over his eyes, willing the ants away.

As his fingers disappear and the counter is back in view, he is surprised to find he was successful, the ants are gone, replaced with tiny Wooyoungs, running in angry circles in the bowl, climbing over each other to get out of the confines of the ceramic enclosure. 

It’s worse: their tiny yelling adds to the chaos. The panic swells, threatening to breach the barrier of his skull. He grabs onto his own hair for purchase. He can’t do this.

A figure approaches the other end of the kitchen island. Wooyoung glances at it, terrified. It’s San, staring down at the bowl of tiny Wooyoungs.

Wooyoung goes to speak, but San reaches forward, taking the bowl with both hands, too calm, as some spill out and clutched onto the hair on his arms, screaming in rage.

Wooyoung watches as San brings the bowl to his face and sticks out his tongue. It’s too long, dipping into the bowl and lapping the Wooyoungs into his mouth. He sucks them up quickly, seemingly not even chewing, just swallowing the pests as if he were lapping up a bowl of milk.

He makes quick work of it, and soon the bowl of Wooyoungs is empty. The remaining pests on the counter skitter away, their tiny yells fading as they hide in crevices like cockroaches.

San looks at him and smiles prettily, reassuringly. Wooyoung releases the grip on his hair, realizing now how tight he had been holding. His shoulders sag in relief as he braces himself on the counter.

There’s somehow still apple slices in the bowl.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man. Last chapter update happened 3 days after the previous, and his one's been two weeks.!  
> You guys okay? Sorry bout that!  
> It's a longer chapter, for me anyway, so I hope you forgive me! 
> 
> Let me know what you think!! 💚💚
> 
> Thanks [Littlegreybyrd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlegreybyrd/pseuds/Littlegreybyrd) for editing!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I'm back!  
> Remember when I said last chapter was long? Hah!  
> This one is like twice as long, so settle in.  
> I just didn't know how to split it up in a way that would satisfy me, so enjoy this uncharacteristically long boi.
> 
> **!!!Mind the new tags if you need trigger warnings!!!**

The ranch-style house was shockingly close to campus. Yunho’s house.

Wooyoung didn’t bother knocking, opening the heavy door and laughing as Yeosang tripped into him, stumbling over the uneven sidewalk split. There was a long crack that seemed to extend into the house, running along the ceiling of the living room and disappearing into the wall. Wooyoung worried for the house’s foundation; the place was seemingly slipping down the sloped land it was planted on. Hopefully that didn’t happen until after his friends moved out.

Yunho lived with like, 5 other dudes? Wooyoung didn’t even know anymore, it’s not like they were all on the lease. None of them were in the living room yet, so he and Yeosang must be the first ones here. He walked on the scratched hardwood floors, not bothering to take off his shoes.

They made their way to a couch that was probably rescued from the sidewalk, someone else’s trash. Their steps echoed throughout the surprisingly sparse room with only some basic, crappy furniture and old red solo cups to accompany them. There’s no kitchen table, just a large ping pong table. The place was so minimal and filthy and _college,_ but that just made it ideal for partying: it didn’t matter if you spilled or broke something. 

They sit in silence. Wooyoung looks up and admires the only decoration on any of the walls: a large pirate flag covered in different colors of neon sharpie, names and phrases written by drunk visitors and the residents alike. He spots the markers on the coffee table, welcoming him to add to the crude mural, when Yunho’s head suddenly pops out from the open doorway leading to the kitchen.

“Hey, you guys are here already! C’mere, let’s start in on this fireball while it’s still here.”

Wooyoung smiles, springing off the sofa and skipping over to the other, ready to start the night. 

He had invited San earlier in the day and texted him the address, informing him to bring Seongwha because ‘it’s a party, just do it’. 

He knew San would come, but he wasn’t sure when. After he downed his shot he sent a quick text.

**Wooyoung >San: We’re here. Come whenever.**

Hongjoon and Jongho join them in the kitchen, roused by Yunho’s cacophonous laughter. Yeosang grabs a beer and Wooyoung makes a mixed drink before exiting the tiny kitchen to make room for the others.

They wait on the couch, greeting various friends that come in, opening the door for acquaintances who still bothered to knock. Wooyoung took charge of the audio jack, throwing a playlist on to blast music throughout the space.

“Hope they find the place alright. You should have told them to meet us at our place and come with us.” Yeosang told him. “Or did you not want San to know where we live?”

Wooyoung gulped down the rest of his drink, preparing for honesty.

“He already knows where we live.”

“He does??”

“Y-yeah, he has sort of been... walking me home?”

“What.” Yeosang deadpans.

“I asked him if he wanted to.” Wooyoung explained, trying not to sound defensive. “He didn’t just start doing it out of nowhere or anything.”

Yeosang scoffed. “He _walks you home_ ? What are you, a _highschooler_? You’re not a girl at night or anything, why the fuck--”

“I don’t _know,_ dude! See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you!” Wooyoung whined, flushing and looking away, biting his lip in irritation. 

“Geez, dude! And you _asked? What??_ ” 

Wooyoung winced, huffing petulantly. He flipped his bangs, unsure of what to say.

Yeosang tipped his head back, haughtily chugging the rest of his beer.

“I don’t know, man.” Wooyoung said, shrugging.

After a beat, Yeosang gulped in air, bottle drained.

“You _like_ him!”

“No -- I dunno know, maybe?”

Yeosang rolled his eyes. “Whatever man. This makes _so_ much more sense. No wonder you were such a bitch while he was no-showing.”

Wooyoung’s phone buzzed. Wooyoung swiped up on the device immediately, glad for the distraction.

**San >Wooyoung: We’re outside.**

“They’re here.”

There was a knock on the door.

Wooyoung jumped up, signaling to an in-motion Changbin that he intended to get the door. He headed over, Yeosang in tow. 

“Shit, okay. Do I look okay?" Yeosang asked nervously.

“You look handsome, Yeosang.” Wooyoung smiled. “Total boyfriend material. _Super_ handsome.” he assured, turning the handle and pulling it open.

San is in front of him, dressed casually in a black t-shirt with the sleeves rolled to show off his toned arms, his hair partially pushed up, gelled and styled. He’s wearing makeup too, a pretty glow of pinkish red framing his eyes, his lips pink and slightly glossy. 

He looked handsome and pretty all at once; Wooyoung swallowed thickly, finally able to acknowledge that this strange man was indeed, objectively, _hot._

“Hey guys! Come on in.” He said, trying not to stare. They stepped in past him, San last.

“Hope you guys found the place okay!” Yeosang says happily. He looks excited to see Seongwha, who is peering around the cheap living room judgmentally, not that you could blame him.

San is staring at Wooyoung, eyeing him up and down indiscreetly. Wooyoung knew he looked good, but the confirmation made him bristle with pride.

“Hey, San.” He greeted the other. “You guys want a drink?”

He turns, but a tall figure stands in his way, Yunho.

“Is that… San?" he asked, arms crossed.

Wooyoung froze. He looked at Yunho warily, feeling his face heat as the other appraised the situation. His jaw was locked in place as he gave the taller a stiff nod. 

Yunho smirked, chest rising with a beat of laughter. He patted Wooyoung on the back. " _Okay_ , then. Have fun."

Wooyoung sighed. He motions the others forward, leading them to the kitchen and pointing to the cups and various bottles of alcohol and mixers.

“Wanna make me something, too? I don’t like beer.” Wooyoung informed San, who nodded eagerly, hurrying to complete his task.

Seongwha held back, arms crossed. It was obvious he was uncomfortable.

He cleared his throat. “Are you guys really this close?”

Yeosang snorted and leaned in to talk conspiratorially. “Apparently, _they are._ I only talk to San when he comes in, which is _every. Day._ He has the _fattest_ crush on Woo."

Seongwha looked at Yeosang, interest clearly piqued. “Really?”

“Yep.” Yeosang answered, popping the ‘p’. “Big ol’ crush.” 

Seongwha was eyeing him. Wooyoung rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward under the inspection he was receiving from San’s coworker… or friend?

“Haha, yeah…” He sputtered, looking around for anything else to talk about.

Seongwha spoke first. “Anything cold in the fridge?”

Yeosang’s eyes light up. “Probably! I’ll check.”

San returned, two drinks in hand, offering a cup to Wooyoung. Wooyoung accepts it and takes a sip, surprisingly pleased with the fruity flavors San chose. He wouldn’t be surprised if San knew what he liked already, from stalking his socials or from the time he was in their kitchen.

The others get their drinks and return to the living room. There’s a game of quarters going on at the ping pong table, now coming to an end as people start fumbling and the quarters fly off the table and disappear.

“Okay, so.” Wooyoung starts, sidling up to San, throwing an arm around him and gesturing to the other to the people in the room.

“That’s Changbin, Hongjoong, you know Yunho… and that’s Yeonjun, Soobin, what the hell, Kai’s here? And that’s Felix, Jimin, Jongho… I don’t know who that is. Uhhh I don’t remember her name. Oh sweet, Han is here, and that’s Chan, and uh… You’re not gonna remember all this anyway. Wanna play a game?”

He turns to look at San, whose eyes are already on him instead of looking out at the people he had been introducing. He smiles cutely and nods, and Wooyoung forgives him.

“Okay!” He started, projecting his voice, gathering the attention of people nearby. “Who wants to play bei-rip?”

A few heads around the ping pong table nod. Others disperse, finding places to comfortably watch or mingle. Yeonjun takes over the audio jack, blaring some Travis Scott.

“Yo!” Hongjoong raises his hand high. “I’ll be the first team captain! Woo, you got second. Wanna pick first?”

“Yeah, okay. This is San and his friend Seongwha. I’ll take San on my team.” San seemed to vibrate with excitement as he quickly magnetized to Wooyoung’s side.

“Cool. Yunho, you’re with me.” He and Hongjoong high five. 

“Yeosang.” He slides over to the other and hip-checks him playfully.

“I’ll take Soobin.” 

Soobin raises his hand in front of his chest.

“I’ll play, but I don’t know the rules.”

Hongjoong looks at the new faces. “Seongwha, San, do you know how to play?” 

Unsurprisingly, they both shook their heads.

Honjoong nods.“Okay, then I’ll take Seongwha too, and Woo’s team gets Jongho. That’s _basically_ fair.”

Wooyoung took San’s cup and set it with his on the windowsill before moving to the head of the table, and pointing San to the spot next to him by the table. Yeosang and Jongho follow suit.

Hongjoong stands at the other end of the table, as his housemates set up three cups along each side of the table and a pyramid of cups at the heads. They pass beers around, the sound of carbonated hissing and subsequent glugging of beer audible over the music.

“Only fill it a third of the way.” Wooyoung instructs San when he receives a beer, pointing to the solo cup in front of him.

Hongjoong cleared his throat. “Okay, so. My team is on this side, Woo’s team is on that side. This game is basically beer pong combined with flip cup. The flip cup starts when one of us makes it, so if I get it in Woo’s cup he chugs and both teams start flip cup, with Woo’s team being on defense, starting only after he finishes drinking. If Woo’s team wins flip cup the cup gets re-racked, if they lose it gets yeeted. Then we rotate shooters. Makes sense?”

Soobin shook his head, and San looked terribly lost.

Wooyoung sighed and put his forehead in his palm; he didn't know if he would have understood either. “You just have to play, that’s how games are! You’ll figure it out as you go, we’ll just tell you what to do.”

“Probably yell at you what to do.” Yunho added, rolling his eyes. “Oh, and we don’t do strict turns: the ball is always in play, so if you miss and it bounces, it’s up for grabs. Anyone can get the ball and get it to their shooter.”

Seongwha furrowed his eyebrows. "What--"

“Let’s start already!" Jongho interrupted.

Wooyoung and Hongjoong rock-paper-scissors to see who will go first, with Wooyoung being the victor.

He threw the ball and missed. The ball bounced back into the living room, with Yunho and Jongho rushing after it in pursuit. 

“Get it!!” Yeosang yelled frantically. 

San started to move but Wooyoung stopped him, hand on his shoulder. “One of em’s got it, don’t bother. They get violent.”

Yeonjun pulled his feet up onto the couch protectively as Yunho shoved Jongho aside roughly and dove down to grab the ball before it rolled under. He snatched it and rushed back to the table. Hongjoong grinned as his teammate returned victorious, aiming his arm to throw as Yunho dipped the second ball in a cup of vodka to clean it off. 

They didn't need it: when Hongjoong threw, he made it.

Wooyoung quickly discarded the ball and grabbed the cup, chugging the beer as quickly as he could. He cringed as he drank. Whatever, it was light beer and he’d be too drunk soon to taste it anyway.

Hongjoong was yelling. “Soobin! Drink and flip!” 

Soobin flinched, but grabbed the cup in front of him and downed it. San had his hand on the cup in front of him, looking around wildly for what to do.

“Not yet!” Yeosang instructed, eyes glued to Wooyoung, awaiting his finish.

Wooyoung swallowed and gasped.

“San, drink!” Yeosang yelled.

San drank quickly. As Soobin flipped his cup for the second time, unsuccessful in getting it set upside down on the table.

San flipped the cup and it landed upside down instantly, prompting Yeosang to start polishing off his beer and begin flipping as well. Finally Soobin was successful.

“Seongwha, gogogo!” Hongjoong urged.

Seongwha started, drinking quickly before making his first attempt. Jongho was flipping his cup already, failing attempt after attempt.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon!” Wooyoung chanted anxiously. Jongho made it, and Wooyoung raised his arms in victory, as Yeosang cheered as well.

“Okay, we won, so we successfully defended. So we don’t lose the beer pong cup.” Wooyoung explained to San, who nodded thoughtfully.

“And now we rotate!” Hongjoong said, as Yunho took his place at the head of the table.

Wooyoung nodded and steered San by the shoulders to his previous position, patting him on the backside. “Good luck!” He said before moving to his new spot, noting the way San had jumped and flushed.

They continue in this fashion until the pyramids on each end of the table are gone and only a single cup is in front of Yeosang, while there are two in front of Seongwha. 

When Seongwha makes it and Yeosang begins to chug, Wooyoung has barely any hope. He rubs Jongho’s shoulders like a coach sending his boxer champ into a fight, the champ grabbing his drink and watching Yeosang intently, eagerly awaiting his cue to start. The other team is flipping already, Yunho making it quickly and Hongjoong begins to drink.

Yeosang finishes and Jongho downs his third of beer in a single gulp, stumbling slightly as he fixes his stance to begin flipping. He makes it after a few attempts and Wooyoung starts, fumbling his hands as he places the cup at the edge of the table, knocking it over once. After a few bad flips Hongjoong is yelling happily, and he knows they’ve lost.

“Damnit! We shouldn’t let Yunho and Hongjoong be on the same team anymore!” Jongho yelled indignantly.

“I know it’s not even fair!” Yunho was smirking. “Victory shots?”

Seongwha looked at him. “I thought with drinking games, the loser drinks?”

Hongjoong threw an arm over Seongwha, making him bend a little to his level.

“Losers drink, winners drink, everybody drinks!”

Changbin must have heard this; he rushed out from the kitchen, bottle held high over his head.

“Tequiiillaaa~!” He shouted excitedly.

“Let’s do body shots!” Yeonjun suggested, already clearing off space on the coffee table for someone to lay. He sent a smoldering look at Soobin, whose head snaps in the opposite direction, avoiding eye contact shyly.

“Ugh, really? I’ll just use a glass, thanks” Jongho whined and made a face.

“You don’t have to do it.” Hongjoong said, still holding onto Seongwha. “Wooyoung will do it, won’t you, Woo? He’s in charge of sexiness around here.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Wooyoung feels his face color but he straightens his posture with confidence, pointedly not looking at San as he strutted over to the coffee table.

“‘Course I will!” He said, sitting. He lays back and lifts his shirt, exposing the entirety of his chest. “Who wants to do one off me?”

San steps forward quickly.

“I will.”

Yeonjun smugly glances at Wooyoung and leans over to pour the tequila into his belly button, filling the divet until it spills over. Wooyoung gasps from the cold, barely registering Yeonjun pouring a line of salt in between his pecs. He opens his mouth and accepts the lime given to him, wrapping his lips around the edges of the peel.

San gets on his knees next to the table, and thankfully, needs no instruction. He leans over Wooyoung, hands behind his back, licking up the salt in between his pecs. 

Wooyoung watches him, a shiver running through at the way San's tongue glides up to lick up the salt, eyes hooded and focused on the skin below him. It stirs something deep in Wooyoung’s stomach. 

San ducks down and places his mouth over Wooyoung’s belly button, sucking the liquor into his mouth. He continues up to Wooyoung’s face, a dark, dreamy look in his eyes. He comes forward slowly, and Wooyoung can see he's shaking slightly. Using his teeth, San gently bites into the exposed pulp of the lime. Wooyoung expects their lips to touch, but they don't, and then San is sitting back up.

Wooyoung felt a tad disappointed as the other pulled away, but when San’s face twisted in disgust as he bit into the sour wedge, his mood lifted immediately. He giggled, pulling his shirt back down.

San offers his hand and Wooyoung takes it, allowing the other to pull him up, despite the fact that someone else may want to do a shot off him as well.

“We should clean you off.” San muttered.

Wooyoung shrugged and let himself be led away. He heard Yeonjun exclaim with glee behind him, clearly happy with the development. “Soobinnie, do one off me!” He purred.

They enter the kitchen. Wooyoung hopped up on the counter, perfectly content to let San try and find his way around. The other located a paper towel and wet it in the sink. 

Wooyoung lifted his shirt when San approached, flicking his head and gripping the counter, making no move to take the towel from him. 

San’s cheeks are red, and Wooyoung knew it wasn't just the alcohol. San tentatively wiped Wooyoung’s chest and stomach, pupils large and dark. The water is cool and refreshing as it’s streaked across his flesh; he feels goosebumps rise in its wake. 

Shivers run down his spine, a delightful contrast to how warm and light he was feeling. When San finishes he turns and tosses the towel in the trash. He looks forward at Wooyoung again, head going back with a little sway, looking much more tipsy than he had a moment ago. He braced himself on the counter, hands on each side of the other’s thighs. Wooyoung leaned back only slightly, allowing the closeness, feeling San’s hot breath across his face. San’s eyes flick to his lips. 

The electricity in the air is a dull hum, and Wooyoung knows what’s about to happen. It’s inevitable. He looks at San’s mouth, lips slightly parted in anticipation. They look slightly wet, like they could quench his thirst.

San starts, “Can I kiss y-”

Wooyoung interrupts him by leaning forward, swiftly pressing his mouth onto San’s, which closes quickly but takes a second to respond. Wooyoung presses in slightly, pleased when the soft pillows press back. Wooyoung’s hand finds San’s cheek, and he angles their mouths together to increase the contact. He stays close for a moment, enjoying the sensation before pulling back, letting a lazy smile creep on his lips as he slowly opens his eyes. 

San’s eyes were half-lidded, and Wooyoung wondered if they had managed to close at all. He breathed out a laugh, eyes bright.

“Let’s go back out and see what everyone’s doing?” 

San nodded dumbly and moved aside, letting Wooyoung hop off the counter.

Back in the living room, more people have arrived. Wooyoung comes up behind a few people on the couch playing some fighting game he doesn’t care about, San joining him to watch.

Suddenly Wooyoung feels arms around his middle and he’s being lifted. “Woooooyoooung!” is bellowed low in his ear. “Woah!” He yelps, turning his head to identify his attacker.

He meets a pair of familiar small almond eyes. “Mingi! Hi!” He wheezes happily, as the arms tighten around him and squeeze the air out of him.

“How you doin, man??” Mingi asked, bumping their heads affectionately, though Wooyoung just gasped out to answer.

He’s relieved when he’s released. San’s hands were pulling Mingi’s forearms, dislodging them and freeing him.

“Woah, man! What gives?” Mingi asked, looking at San.

“You were crushing him!” San answered indignantly, voice louder than usual.

“It's _fine,_ he likes it rough. Don’t you, Wooyoungie?”

Wooyoung looked anxiously at San, whose eyebrows had shot up at that, then furrowed in offense. He was embarrassed it was coming out like that, but schooled his features accordingly.

“How would _you_ know?” Jongho asked in a disbelieving tone, looking over the back of the couch.

“We hooked up in January.” Mingi replied, smirking a little. 

“Shit, really?”

Wooyoung bristled. “Yeah, _once,_ if you can even call it that! He’s such a pillow princess!” 

“Hey! It was still a hookup, I’m just not into the freaky dom shit you like.” Mingi teased, grabbing Wooyoung again, leaning back and popping the joints in his spine. San reached forward again, and Mingi swung Wooyoung out of reach, smiling goofily.

“Careful there, Mingi, he knows Taekwondo.” Yeosang warned as he approached.

“Who? Oh shit! Really?”

“Yeah, he even teaches it.” Yeosang said, sipping his drink, leaning on the back of the couch.

“What, no shit?!” Mingi released Wooyoung, who doubled over, groaning a little as he went to join Yeosang. "That's awesome! Can you do anything cool?"

San seethed, before looking at Wooyoung with concern maring his countenance. Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he sat back with Yeosang, trying to send a look to San with his eyes that he was _fine._

Changbin and Kai stirred on the couch, apparently also interested. When they both got up to resituate, the couch dipped forward under Wooyoung and Yeosang’s weight, causing Yeosang to nearly fall backwards as he instinctively leaned back to avoid falling on his face. Changbin caught him, pushing him back up as Kai dropped a knee to the cushion heavily to pull it back to the ground. Wooyoung giggled as the couch dropped back heavily, managing to hang on with strained muscles. 

"Show us something!" Mingi urged San. 

Wooyoung cocked his head, eyebrows raised again, giving San a look that he hoped would convey his curiosity, and maybe challenge the other to impress him. He winked.

It worked. 

San cleared his throat and walked a few steps back, giving himself room. He started forward in a quick run, jumping into a spinning kick. He did a little hop as he landed, before launching forward again into a second one. 

“Hell yeah! That was awesome!” Mingi said, getting in San’s face. San stiffened at the proximity, but the initial hostility was ebbing away. “What else can you do, hey show me how to do something!”

Yeosang was in Wooyoung’s ear, whispering. “You’re drooling.”

Wooyoung jolted, realizing that he _had_ forgotten to close his mouth. He wiped his hand over his face, finding it luckily dry. He smacked Yeosang lightly on the arm. “Shaddup.”

They watch as San shows Mingi some basic moves, joined by Yunho and Jongho, imitating San’s movements sloppily. It devolves into demonstrating defensive maneuvers, San letting the others take turns trying to strike him without getting blocked or dodged.

At one point Mingi rushes San from behind, wrapping both hands around him and pinning his arms. San crouched and grabbed Mingi's arm, pulling him up and forward and flipping him over his shoulder onto the ground. 

“Shit!” San exclaimed, eyes wide. “Are you okay?!” But Mingi started laughing, and so did Yunho and several onlookers. San's shoulders slump in relief as he takes in everyone's reaction. He visibly brightens and begins giggling.

Wooyoung smiles and rolls his eyes. Drunk idiots.

This goes on for a while, and Wooyoung eventually grows bored of it. Felix and Chan had come over, suggesting they arm wrestle, pulling San over to the ping pong table to have shots first. Changbin joins them, clapping an arm on San's back as he enters the circle. 

San turns to look at him, briefly confused before smiling widely. He's pulled back towards the group by Jongho, who wraps his arm around San’s teeny waist and spins him around. He stumbles slightly, but Jongho has a strong hold, forcing him to balance as they all grab their shot glasses and yelled. “Cheers!”

Wooyoung frowns and looks away, feeling a little irked. He distracts himself with Yeosang, whose gaze is elsewhere. He follows it and sees Seongwha, off in the corner talking with Hongjoong. How long have they been together this evening?

Yeosang seems to notice Wooyoung looking at him. He cleared his throat and nodded toward San.

“They’re getting along surprisingly well.”

Wooyoung frowned, he was trying to _not_ think about that. “Yep.” Wooyoung answered, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“That’s a _good_ thing, Woo.”

“I know.” He knows he hadn't hidden the irritation from his voice.

Yeosang snorted out a laugh.

“What about you? You should go talk to Seonghwa.” Wooyoung suggested.

“He’s talking with Hongjoong right now.”

“Are you jealous?”

Yeosang shrugged. “They're just talking. Seongwha and I talked for awhile earlier, and he knows I'm around, so." He sighed and scuffed his shoe against the floor. “If he wants to talk to me he will. I'm not going to stress about it... I... don't want to have to try so hard for someone to like me, you know?” He looked Wooyoung in the eye.

Wooyoung nodded, feeling sympathetic for his friend. He looked back at Seonghwa and Hongjoong, at Hongjoong slapping his own thigh, laughing with Seongwha at his own joke. Wooyoung frowned. Hongjoong was a good friend, and he loved him. He was sparkling, magnetic, effortless.

“You're hotter.”

Yeosang nudged him playfully. “That’s subjective. But thank you.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as they watched the party. Wooyoung heard the group at the ping pong table loudly toasting again. He downed the rest of his drink. 

He looked at his best friend next to him. The melancholy expression on his face made him look soft and beautiful. 

Too beautiful for this party. These ingrates. 

“Hey, you wanna makeout?”

Yeosang scoffed. “No, dude. Seongwha's right there.”

“So? Maybe it will turn him on. Pique his interest.”

Yeosang sighed, free hand going to rub his temple. “I don’t think he’s the type that would appreciate that.”

“What, you think he's a prude?”

“No--”

“Why would you want a prude, anyway? Don't you want to get dicked down?”

Yeosang shoved him, blushing. “Shut up! I don’t just want dick! I mean… I do, but… not _just_ that. And I don’t want to look like a slut.” 

Wooyoung sassily rolled his head in the other’s direction. “Oh, so you wanna lie?”

Yeosang laughed, shaking his head. "Unbelievable. You’re such a brat!”

“C'mooooon! I'll cover 5 of your shifts!“

“You would have done that anyway.”

“Even more reason! I'm such a good friend! You should make out with me.”

“Do you really want your little stalker’s attention that badly?”

Wooyoung pouted. “C'mon…”

Yeosang groaned. He looked around the room for a moment, surveying its members. Seonghwa and Hongjoong were moving to the kitchen, probably for another drink. He looked back at Wooyoung, face resigned.

“Fine.” 

Wooyoung grinned, turning to Yeosang, who had set his drink down and crossed his arms, his head lolled back like this was a headache.

Wooyoung cupped his friend's face, leaning in to touch their lips.

Yeosang uncrossed his arms and put a hand on Wooyoung’s neck, guiding him to his mouth as he parted his lips.

Wooyoung tasted into Yeosang's boozy mouth without hesitation, the feeling of his friend’s delicate lips familiar, and easy. Almost immediately he heard some partygoers take notice, the gossip and wolf whistles beginning.

Time to really start the show. Wooyoung pulled back and looked at Yeosang. His friend's mouth was slightly open as he awaited another kiss, mouth quivering in anticipation. 

Wooyoung smiled lazily, he leaned in and licked Yeosang's waiting lips and tongue, giving a few playful laps to entice him in and make his breath hitch. Wooyoung ended the teasing by sinking into Yeosang’s bottom lip, taking the lip with him as he pulled back.

Yeosang stretched his jaw forward with the movement, whining when the pull became too much. Wooyoung released him and licked his own lips sensually.

He heard someone clapping as he dived back in, slipping his tongue into Yeosang's mouth deftly.

Then he was being tugged backwards. Their mouths separated as he felt the force on his right shoulder, causing him to spin around. He came face to face with San. He was _livid._

Wooyoung looked at him with big doe eyes. He had expected some reaction, but the look on San’s face still came as a surprise. It was tense, and so sharp it could cut him. He winced at the thought.

San grabbed his wrist and pulled, forcing Wooyoung through the crowd of onlookers and down the hall, catcalls following them.

Was he fucked? He felt like he was fucked.

San practically dragged Wooyoung down the hall of Yunho’s house. Wooyoung didn’t know where they were going, and he knew San didn’t either.

"S-San! Calm down! This is Yunho's house, we can't just-"

But San _did_ just, he opened a door to who-knows-whose room and flung Wooyoung inside.

Wooyoung sputtered, needing to gain some control in what felt like an escalating situation. 

"San!” Wooyoung yelled, turning to face him, trying to make his voice firm. “ _San_. It's not what you think. We just do that when we're _drunk_. It's _nothing!_ ”

The explanation must not have been sufficient; San was closing the door behind him.

The anger radiating off San as he stalked towards Wooyoung made his stomach drop. "It's really nothing! Calm down, okay?"

" _Don't_ do it again." San replied, voice low and commanding.

Wooyoung felt a pang of anger. Why was he even defending himself? He didn't do anything wrong! San _isn't_ his boyfriend, he has _no right_ to be angry. He stuck out an accusing finger.

" _You._ You don’t tell me what to do."

San’s neck twitches, jaw clenching. His arms come to cage the younger to the wall, easily reminding Wooyoung that San is much _much_ stronger than him. 

He mentally chastised himself for letting himself be dragged into a secluded location with the other. 

The veins in San's arms bulged; he seemed so much broader now, or was Wooyoung just making himself small? His gut stirred in excitement, and Wooyoung tried to push away inappropriate thoughts. It was not the time for that. The feeling was probably just the adrenaline kicking in, telling him to fight or flee. Neither seemed like very possible options right now. 

"You don't scare me.” he lied, voice lilting out airily. San’s eyes narrowed and Wooyoung felt like a mouse caught in a trap. 

"You don't get to tell me what to do…! You don't have the right to, to--”

San’s hand went to his jaw and he was snarling, lunging in. Wooyoung froze in shock, as lips pressed into his forcefully. He felt his eyes slip shut as a tongue slid into his mouth. Wooyoung's mouth softened, allowing the other in.

The warm fingers on Wooyoung’s jaw trailed to his neck. They squeezed, experimentally. 

Wooyoung gripped San’s biceps; not hard enough to deter, just trying to ground himself as his drunken mind swirled in confusion and excitement.

San's other hand went to his throat, fully encircling it, controlling him. Wooyoung whimpered wantonly, unable to hide the effect that this had on him. San hummed in approval, fingers twitching.

Wooyoung’s eyes popped open as the pressure increased: too much, cutting off air flow. San’s tongue was still pushing against the inside of his mouth, and Mingi's earlier comment about him ‘liking it rough’ flashed through his mind, sobering him. 

Fuck.

Fuck Mingi. 

Fuck his own stupidity. 

He shouldn't be here. Panic swelled through his chest, getting caught in his constricted windpipe.

He made a choked noise and San moved his head back, eyes wide, gaze full of fascination as it flicked over Wooyoung's strained face.

Wooyoung grabbed his hands, sinking his nails in painfully hard, trying to pry them away or inflict enough pain to get the other to _let go._

The fear spiked and he felt his face grow hot the longer he didn’t have oxygen. He thrashed his shoulders, but San pushed him up the wall, onto his toes, making it impossible to escape the vice-like grip.

His grip on San's hands weakened. Even the fear was dampening now as he suffocated, eyes rolling back in his head. 

Then San released him. Wooyoung gasped, desperate to suck air back into his lungs. He coughed, but even that felt good. He clutched his chest and breathed in deeply. Relief and anger bubbled to his eyes, threatening to spill tears over.

“You… _freak_!” Wooyoung spat. He panted, shaky hand rubbing his stinging neck protectively.

He didn’t have time to process, as San was pushing him back into the wall, angling his face to capture Wooyoung’s lips again, gentler this time, hands moving to tug on Wooyoung's waist.

Maybe it was the alcohol, the adrenaline, or just hormones making him stupid, but Wooyoung kissed back.

He moved his lips against San’s, hand clutching the back of the older’s neck desperately, working his fingers into his hair, as his other hand trapped between them moved to San’s chest.

San hummed in approval again when Wooyoung's palm squeezed his pec firmly, his tongue rubbed against the stud on Wooyoung's tongue as his hands slipped lower on the younger’s back.

San’s hands ran over his ass like they belonged there, squeezing firmly, possessively.

Wooyoung moaned, breaking the kiss, surprised that the hands that had just terrified him felt so _good._

San regarded him.

“Don’t kiss him anymore.” He said quietly, before he was pulling Wooyoung's head aside by his hair and attacking his neck. 

Wooyoung gasped at the quick pain on his scalp, enjoying the sting and authority of it all. He lay boneless against the wall, letting San do what he wanted.

Wooyoung shivered as San worked his way down, nipping and mouthing Wooyoung's skin.

“Don’t kiss anyone...” San said quietly, voice vibrating against his skin. He bit down, hard.

“Ah! Okay, okay! _Ahh…_ ”

The pain set his skin aflame, but it was quickly soothed by San sucking, the vacuum of his mouth making Wooyoung's head spin.

"O-ohhhh… oh, _fuck_.” 

Wooyoung grabbed San’s neck with both hands, pulling him in, closer, _closer._

"Ahhh, _San_ …" He huffed headily.

A knock on the door startled them. 

He jumped, pushing San off of him.

"You okay in there, Woo?" he heard Yeosang calling through the door.

Right. The party.

“Yeah! We're good! I'm good! I'll be right out!”

“Okay…“ came the muffled reply.

He looked back at San who was panting heavily, staring at him through the mussed up hair in his eyes.

Wooyoung carded his fingers through his own hair in an attempt to fix it, feeling flushed under San's stare. He adjusted himself in his pants, trying to find an angle where it wouldn’t be extremely obvious that he was embarrassingly hard.

San reached up and touched Wooyoung’s neck, hesitantly. He flinched.

“Sorry.” San whispered, sheepishly. “I just... I got a little carried away.” He broke eye contact and rubbed his thumb over a vein gently, soothingly.

Wooyoung looked at him; he knows he shouldn’t say it. He knows. 

But he says it anyway.

“It’s okay.”

  
  


They walk home in silence. 

When they had left the room, Wooyoung had made the executive decision that San and him were leaving. He had yelled as much to Yeosang as he pulled San out the front door, needing to escape as quickly as possible. He was not eager to explain his current state to anyone. The hickies, the finger-shaped bruises, the hard-on. 

God, he was fucked up.

He felt some relief in the cool night air, but unfortunately, he still wasn't sober.

San was in an even worse state, head lolling a bit as he walked. The shots must be catching up to him. Eventually Wooyoung threw San’s arm over him, taking his waist to support him.

They reach his apartment and somehow manage to get up all the stairs. Wooyoung is exhausted, and he knows San must be too.

When they enter his room, Wooyoung doesn't bother turning on the lights. He lets the soft white glow of the Christmas lights guide him to the bed.

He flings San onto it, relieved that the other is at least balanced enough to sit without falling over.

Wooyoung slips off his necklaces and starts on his other jewelry, shucking rings and bracelets off of himself into a decorative bowl. 

He starts on his pants, huffing when he hears San gasp. He rolls his eyes and looks at him, too tired to be amused at the reaction.

"Take yours off, too. They won't be comfortable."

He sees San start to comply in his peripheral as he goes to the desk and snatches his water bottle, downing as much as possible. 

When he turns San is standing, pants removed. Wooyoung pushes the water bottle into his chest before lifting the covers and scooting into bed.

San hesitates before he drinks the water given to him, setting the bottle back down. He looks around, seeming to recognize his location before shifting on his feet awkwardly.

Wooyoung gives him a tired smile, lifting the covers. His voice is raspy, a comforting whisper as he addresses the other person in the room.

"C'mon San, let's sleep."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How we doin? 🙃
> 
> I loved describing the house and party for this chapter. It feels like the squallor I lived in freshman year wasnt wasted, you know? damn I miss playing bei-rip
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed! 🖤
> 
> Thanks [Littlegreybyrd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlegreybyrd/pseuds/Littlegreybyrd) for editing!💕


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, so sorry for the accidental hiatus that this fic took!
> 
> I was having a hard time getting this one out, so I updated other fics, and then BOOM, over a month has gone by! Having multiple WIPs is horrible.  
> Not that I learned my lesson, I started another one bc it was Halloween. 
> 
> Anyway enjoy the chapter!

He’s woken by a slight shuffling.

Wooyoung frowns, irritated when he feels the warm mass he was clutching to wriggling away from him, tearing him from dreamland. A chill was now creeping onto his chest. He snuggled forward to close the gap where the warmth was escaping.

The mass heaved out a sigh.

Wooyoung opened an eye. His arm is laid over an expanding ribcage, face smudged Into warm skin. 

He backs his head up, sleepy and relaxed as he recognizes the deep purple color of his comforter in his peripheral, recognizes the smell of home. He cranes his head slightly to get a look at who he's clinging to.

Wooyoung sees an angular profile, from which blossom plush red lips he recognizes, he _knows_. 

San. 

He looks over at the sleeping face, slow mind barely processing. He realizes he’s never seen the other’s eyes closed like this before.

Other than when they kissed. 

Last night.

It all comes to him at once. He brought a drunk San home with him after they had made out, had pulled him into his bed.

The realization is a bit overwhelming, how much had happened in a single night to get him here. Wooyoung took a deep, calming breath, getting a delicious whiff of clove and nutmeg. He quickly extracted himself, rolling onto his back. He shouldn't like this scent. It shouldn’t be here.

He thinks back to San's terrifying grasp on his throat. He can almost feel it, even now.

How the fuck is the cause of that now in his bed??

...He's an idiot, that’s how.

Wooyoung had almost won a Darwin award last night. Everything about jealous San had felt like a predator with its prey. 

He had pinned Wooyoung to the wall and taken his breath away, rendered him weak and trapped, ready to be devoured.

Wooyoung shakes his head, but it doesn't stop the memories from replaying against his will. 

His neck being squeezed, then soothed by lips and teeth. The frightening grip moving to his ass, massaging his flesh and pulling him in.

Despite himself, warmth is pooling low in his stomach. 

He jumps when San rolls, arm flopping over onto him draping heavily over his midsection. 

Wooyoung looks at him.

San's eyes are shut, lax and smudged with makeup, half covered by messy bedhead. His breathing is deep and slow.

 _Pretty,_ his mind supplies, so he looks away. He finds himself turning over the other way, unable to resist scooting his back into San as he does.

What are you _doing_ , Wooyoung? He hears a nagging voice in his head, which sounds like Yeosang. Big surprise.

I'm _tired._ He justifies. It's cold. 

'Do you like him?' the voice asks, the same question Yeosang had asked him earlier in the week. 

He closed his eyes and tried not to think about it. Which was kind of hard to do while he's being spooned by the person in question, as they slept soundly. 

Which was his fault.

He's the one that brought San to his bed rather than the couch, he's the one that kissed San in the kitchen and got all jealous, and he's the one that's half-hard while reliving the subsequent events of his actions.

Wooyoung pictured how San looked last night, with his exposed arms and subtle makeup. He had a defined jaw and lean musculature that Wooyoung had never appreciated before, always distracted by his watchful eyes and strange behavior. 

Now that he's realized, there's no unrealizing. He’s attracted to San, there's no denying it.

San shifts, wiggling forward. Wooyoung gasps, jolting slightly when he feels it, feeling his own cock twitch when he realized what it was.

San is hard against him.

Fuck. 

Wooyoung’s weak, his hips move automatically, backing into it. He feels a flash of heat spike through him when San releases a breath that peaks in a small sleepy moan.

The arm draped over Wooyoung slides back, hand brushing over his ribs and pressing there. San’s face buries into his neck, lips just barely touching skin.

Wooyoung bites his lip. 

He's on the edge here, and fuck, was the edge a hot place to be. 

He's embarrassed by what he's thinking, what he's about to set in motion, and he wishes he wanted to stop but he doesn’t.

He wishes he could be cool but he _can’t_. He’s not cool. He's hazy and _hot,_ hot for _San_.

Fuck it, he thinks. He lets sluggish body do what it wants, which is grind his ass back into his sleeping admirer.

The hand wrapped around his side moves down, then up, full-palmed strokes petting over his shirt, feeling up his stomach and chest.

Wooyoung sighs deeply, the touch feels _good_. He moves his hips in larger, more provocative circles, trying to entice the hardness pressed against him further.

He reaches a hand back and takes hold of San’s neck, sliding encouraging fingers into the other's hair. He pulls him in, and the lips on his neck part and press in. The hands on his sides tighten, now exploring with slightly more agency.

The lips move, pressure turning into lazy kisses. Wooyoung shivers.

"Uh-ohhhh…"

The hands stop.

They back up, only fingertips resting on him now.

Wooyoung turns his head, needy pout gracing his lips.

San's eyes open to half lidded slits, filled with lust and then confusion as they slowly blink, mouth pursing forward as he wakes.

"This isn't... a dream?" He asks in a voiceless whisper that Wooyoung wants to press his ear into. He’s wired now that San’s eyes are on him, electricity buzzed through his veins.

“No." He whispered back.

"It… It’s really not?"

Wooyoung’s jaw clenched, resisting the urge to moan as his ego was stroked so, _so_ well. His hand tightens in San’s hair as he imagines the other having this dream before, about being something so unattainable that even now he didn’t believe it. 

He’d make him believe it. _God,_ was San lucky.

He takes San's hand and pulls it back on him, lifting his body to allow San's other hand to follow, slipping under him instantly, following the first’s lead. He brings both under his shirt, placing one on his chest and one on his stomach.

"It feels _good_." He breaths. "Don't stop."

San’s breath hitches, head flinching back slightly, fingers twitching. Wooyoung reaches back to take his neck again, to press San's lips to his ear.

"Mm?" He asks, barely a question, but he knows the answer.

"A-ah, okay…" the sound tickles his ear.

The hands start moving with intent, slowly at first, stopping and starting in gentle circles. The touch is soft and new, and with his back to the other Wooyoung feels a bit vulnerable. It's thrilling, trusting San with his body like this. He certainly didn't deserve it.

Wooyoung's hand on San’s neck works upward, massaging his scalp and pulling San’s lips to his neck as he arches to give San more access.

"Mmmhh…" he hums airily, just short of a moan as he feels the plush lips gently kiss his neck again. He’s so warm and light, and he feels so _sexy_ right now.

San’s hands are gaining confidence, gentle circles forgotten. He releases a long exhale that sounds both desperate and relieved as he travels the expanse of Wooyoung's body. His movements are gripping and firm, gaining speed. His hands are pulling Wooyoung in, ravaging him.

Wooyoung’s head is starting to spin. His grip in San’s hair slackens as the other gets more into it, feeling over him so aggressively now and breathing in Wooyoung's nape so hungrily that he feels like he might be swallowed up. It’s a little alarming, a bit scary even. It’s making his heart pound, blood rushing south.

He angles his hips so he can feel San's cock against his ass. To his relief, San releases a stuttered sigh, hands stopping and squeezing like he needed to ground himself.

Wooyoung is drunk again, or at least he feels like it, as he pulls his underwear down past his knees. He reaches back in between them, freeing San’s cock from the slit in his boxers, ignoring San’s near-scandalized gasp.

Wooyoung maneuvers it between his legs, rubbing the tip on the skin there, leaving wet precum in its wake.

"Use my thighs." He utters as he paints, eager to feel the desire for him firm between his legs, real and aching. 

Wooyoung sets San's member there and brings his hand to his open mouth, looking back to lock eyes with San as he flattens his tongue against his palm. 

San's eyes widen and Wooyoung has never felt more filthy and sexy as he slowly licks, tongue dragging up his palm to his fingertips.

He squeezes his hand back down in between them, grasping San's cock and sliding to the tip, rubbing what saliva was left between his legs to add to the wetness there.

"Fuck my thighs." He whispers, closing his legs around San's tip, as he grabs his own cock. He squeezes as he strokes, rolling his hips back over San's length.

San's hands snap to his hips, grip strong. Wooyoung feels him shrink away, warmth leaving his back.

He looks over his shoulder, confused.

San had leaned back, wide eyes fixed down onto his cock in between Wooyoung's legs like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Wooyoung's chest swelled, pride and amusement spiking.

"Did I break you?" he asked airily.

Wooyoung brought his hips forward, sliding off of San’s cock, watching San malfunction. He was frozen, fixated on their lower halves. Wooyoung stopped at the tip, frowning when San didn't move or react further.

"Mmm-mmnnnnnn!" He whined.

San looked up, face surprised and mouth hung open dumbly.

"This is a dream." He uttered, wide eyes boring into Wooyoung's.

Wooyoung huffed, abandoning his cock to pull San back in, pressing their cheeks together.

"It's not." He answered simply. He lowered his eyelids, pulling back just enough so he could stare into the other's eyes like he had last night.

The corners of his lips twitch upward when San's expression finally shifts.

The air around San relaxes as the lids of his eyes droop, gaze flicking for a moment to Wooyoung's mouth.

"Yessss.” Wooyoung breathed, attention caught by San’s tongue darting out to wet his lips. His own somehow felt empty, now. “C'monn..." 

San's dark eyes met Wooyoung's once more before he was moving in, taking Wooyoung's lips despite the awkward angle. His hands tightening on Wooyoung's hips.

Wooyoung smiled into the kiss, giddy now that San was engaged. He seemed determined to get their mouths to seal over each other completely, which was impossible with his body turned away like it was. Still a respectable cause, in Wooyoung’s opinion.

San’s hand came to Wooyoung’s jaw, angling it further as he attempted to lick into Wooyoung’s mouth, and Wooyoung couldn’t contain a laugh. He turned his head forward, breaking the kiss as a breathless giggle escaped him.

San mouthed under his jaw instead, fingers brushing Wooyoung's long hair over his shoulder before sliding down to encircle his throat. Wooyoung gasped, guilty pleasure shooting down his spine.

"A-ah! _San--_ "

The moment it left his lips, San's hips stuttered forward, cock slipping back in between Wooyoung's thighs.

Wooyoung released his hold in San's hair as the other began to push in and out, lips traveling down his neck.

Wooyoung groaned. "Y-yeah, like that… just like that..."

Wooyoung gripped his cock again and pumped along with San’s thrusts.

San's cock was brushing the underside of his balls, a pleasant tease as the hardness rubbed between his legs.

"Oh, _fuck_ , just like that..." he said, still whispering, because it was still early, because he didn't want to wake someone, because he really shouldn't be doing this.

Wooyoung licked his hand again, lubing up his own dick before repeating the action on San's, holding a loose fist on the spot San's dick emerged from between his thighs, catching it and coating it with saliva.

"O-oh!" San jolted before ceasing his movement. He hooked his chin over Wooyoung's shoulder to look down at the hand around his cock, giving shallow thrusts while watching.

"Mmmhh..."

Wooyoung side-eyed him, briefly interested. How many times San had imagined seeing this hand around his cock? He didn't know, and he didn't care to speculate, he wanted more.

He finished lubing San up, releasing it to take his own cock again.

San made a whining sound, eyes still trained on Wooyoung’s hand. He covered it with his own, gently sliding Wooyoung’s grip away.

Wooyoung released a pleased sigh, hand falling to the bed as San replaced it, fingertips teasing up his cock like he was reading braille. 

He took all of Wooyoung into his palm, giving a languid stroke.

"Mmm…" Wooyoung praised, gently moving his hips.

San's hands were calloused, rougher than his own, but Wooyoung wasn't complaining.

He expected as much. San was a fighter, and apparently a generous lover. His hand was building speed on Wooyoung's cock, his own length somewhat neglected, moving in between Wooyoung's thighs slowly. Wooyoung felt San’s chin unhook from his shoulder, replaced with teeth as San bit down.

" _San_ … oh my God…" 

"Wooyoung…" San whispered, and it's what Wooyoung wants to hear. His hips jerk forward. He keens when San whispers it again. "Wooyoung." Then a little louder. "Wooyoung-"

San's thrusts sped up, his hand on Wooyoung's cock moving sloppier.

" _Y_ _es,_ yesss! Fuck -- _Fuck,_ San!" Wooyoung cried. He's releasing all sorts of embarrassing sounds now, too loud for the early morning. 

"Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung…" San chanted into his shoulder, hips moving with a mind of their own.

 _Louder_ , Wooyoung thinks. _More._ He reached back and grabbed a fistfull of San’s hair, tugging sharply.

"A-ah! Oh _god, Wooyoung_ …!" San’s voice breaks. It’s as desperate as Wooyoung feels. He grabs his cock, taking over for San, pumping himself in time with the other’s movements.

"Fuck --I'm close, San. I'm... _fuck_ \-- so close!”

Wooyoung did his best to hold his thighs closed, curling forward and gripping the sheets to steady himself.

"Fuck, Wooyoung!"

Wooyoung's thoughts were spiraling, hearing that from San sounded so _good._

"Nnnnn-yeah, _fuck_ me..!"

San's free hand spread over Wooyoung's collarbone, using that and the grip on his hip to hold Wooyoung in place as he fucked into his thighs. The pace is brutal, the harsh sound of skin slapping on skin proving it. He feels San's forehead drop to his back, trace moans mingling with his labored breaths. San's hips are working overtime to thrust his dick in and out as fast as possible. It's sending Wooyoung over the edge. 

"Nn-nn-nn-AH!… O-oohhh…. aaahhhh!!!"

He released into his hand, body curling in and twitching as he came. San grunts, pushing himself forward, shoulders twitching and convulsing as follows, making a mess on Wooyoung's thighs.

"Y-Young-aaahhhhh...."

San collapsed onto the pillow, arm hanging over Wooyoung’s heavily, rough breath fanning the hair on his neck. It was too warm, too intimate, but Wooyoung doesn't pull away.

He breathed in deeply, closing his eyes to rest.

The logical side of his brain wondered if they were too loud and woken Yeosang. His roommate was definitely going to give him shit for fooling around with San after saying he didn’t know if he liked him. Especially because of all of San’s weird-ass behavior, half of which Yeosang didn’t even know about.

If Yeosang knew what had happened last night…

He knew this is the part where he should feel bad. That he should feel guilty in regards to Yeosang, and he should feel stupid, disgusted with himself for just thinking with his body. He should be ashamed, but he's not.

He feels fucking amazing.

He bid the logical side of his brain goodbye. It was surprisingly easy to do, to cover the negative thoughts with a pillow, unsure if he was just hiding them for now or smothering them to death. He didn't care either way.

He basked in his post-orgasm bliss, letting his head fall back on San's shoulder.

Eventually the feeling started to dull. A refreshing energy taking its place, slowly warming him.

Wooyoung smiled. What a great way to wake up.

He leaned forward, reaching for the bedside table. San’s arm loosened off of him, hovering as Wooyoung pulled several tissues from the box. He settled back against San again, placing a few into the hovering hand.

He reached down to wipe himself off, jumping a little when San beat him to it, arm over him, wiping the mess from in between his thighs. Wooyoung shivered, going to clean the tip of his cock and the mess on the sheets instead.

He heard a soft gasp as San slipped his limp cock out, tissued hand clutching his hip for purchase. Wooyoung smiled, breathing out a laugh.

He turned his head, catching San’s eye as he did so. He bit his lip as his mirth was crushed under the weight of San’s dreamy gaze, a weight he couldn’t bear for long.

He looked away.

"I don't work today." He murmured, nestling back into the other's arms, which tensed before gathering him back up like he wanted.

"I know." San answered quietly. 

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. 

"Do _you?_ Work today?"

"Yes. I have 2 classes this morning.”

Wooyoung frowned, biting the inside of his cheek.

He didn't know anything about San's schedule. He didn't know anything about _San_ , about his life. His stomach twisted as he processed. 

"Can I come?"

San was silent for a moment.

"...To the studio?"

"Yeah. Can I like, watch a class or --”

“Yes.” San interrupted him, likely for the first time. The warm arms around Wooyoung tighten momentarily. “Yes. You can come.”

Wooyoung smiled, the feeling in his gut turning ooey and gooey and pleasant.

He gently pulled out of San’s hold, rolling onto his back. 

He keened as he stretched his arms over his head, eyes scrunching shut, joints popping pleasingly.

He sighed in relief, opening his eyes and meeting San’s rapt gaze, unbothered by its intensity. 

“So, when’s class?”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! I hope the smut makes up for my absence, somewhat! Though it was gonna happen no matter what.  
> God, I love smut. I'm so glad we've progressed to smut. I'm biased, but still.
> 
> Let me know your thoughts!
> 
> If you're looking for another creepy fic to read while waiting for the next chapter, you might like my new stray kids fic, idk. [Abandoned spirits have no fear](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27198227/chapters/66434546)


	11. Chapter 11

“Hey, you work at noon today, right?” 

Yeosang looked at him over the coffee mug that was concealing nearly his entire face. He sighed heavily before he answered, exhaustion evident along with his hangover. He set his mug on their kitchen table. “Morning to you, too.”

Yeosang rubbed the bags under his eyes roughly.

“Do you not check your messages? I called and texted you like ten times.” His voice was raspy, not-all there. “Why’d you just leave last night? What happened with San? He looked _pissed_ when he saw us.”

Yeosang shook his head, confusion marring his face. “I didn’t expect him to go all aggro like that. What happened?”

Wooyoung deflated, rubbing his still slightly wet hair on the back of his neck. He knew this was coming...

He knew he had to give Yeosang some kind of explanation, but he was walking a thin line here. If he wanted to see San today, or ever again, he should choose his words carefully.

He hadn’t even made up his mind about San yet, if Yeosang knew the full extent of what had transpired between them he probably wouldn’t get the chance.

Because normally, he’d actually communicate with his best friend, normally, he’d listen.

He had definitely left Yeosang out to dry last night. He probably didn't even know San had slept here, despite Wooyoung being a bit _loud_ this morning. Wooyoung had checked, he peeked in on his roommate and found him sleeping soundly, none the wiser to his and San’s funny business. He had ushered San out the door with a promise to text him before he hopped in the shower and began mulling over how much he could tell his friend without causing alarm. If that was even possible.

And now here he was.

“Yeah, um… he was upset.”

“Upset?” Yeosang crossed his arms. “He was more than upset. He _pulled_ you off of me. What’s up with you two?”

Wooyoung let out a deep sigh.

“So you know how he did that body shot off me?”

Yeosang nodded, arched brow doing little to take away from his heavy frown.

“After that we were in the kitchen, and he was like, helping me clean the shot off, and I just…" He bit his lip, unsure how to word it. “I dunno, we had like, a moment? I kissed him.” He ended quickly, averting his eyes.

The incredulous look Yeosang gave him made him wince.

“You… what? I thought...” Yeosang uncrossed his arms. He turned his head away, eyes far off like he was processing. “I didn't think you'd gotten that far... _You_ kissed _him_... _”_ Something seemed to click in Yeosang’s mind as his mouth popped open.

Yeosang shook his head, fingers pinching at his nose and forehead. “I forgot he’d been walking you home. Like, basically _courting_ you... I shouldn’t have agreed to make out with you. Fuck, and you _kissed_ him..? Agh, what was I _thinking??”_

Yeosang looked up at him, annoyance filling his glare.

 _“_ I thought you just wanted attention! I didn’t know you were trying to _provoke_ the guy!”

Wooyoung blinked. Is that what he was doing?

“Can’t believe I got roped into the drama you were trying to cause! At least he didn’t make a big scene. If I were him, I would have just _left…”_

Wooyoung just shifted awkwardly. He had certainly accomplished making San’s reaction seem warranted, but now he just felt like an asshole. What _had_ he been thinking? His wheels were spinning, grinding through Yeosang’s implications. He _had_ seen San get upset by Mingi’s overbearing hug not long before, and he had kissed him earlier, probably giving him some kind of hope. ... _Was_ he trying to push him? Provoke him? 

Fuck, maybe he was.

Yeosang’s eyes flicked up. “So what did he say?” he prompted. “Did you guys fight?”

Wooyoung tugged at the fabric of his turtleneck, pulling it up to make sure it was covering his bruises.

“Um… Yeah, a little…”

Wooyoung remembered the fight, how San wasn’t even listening to him when he explained that he and Yeosang weren’t involved like that. He huffed, irritation returning.

“He was mad even after I told him that there’s nothing between you and me, and then I got mad that _he_ was mad--”

“Figures.” Yeosang deadpanned.

“--and like, trying to tell me what to do! And, so _yeah_ , we fought…”

He found himself grimacing and looking to the side, unsaid words itching on the tip of his tongue. He held his hands together, proper...and guilty. He just needed to get through this.

“...and then we made out…” 

“Jesus, Woo.”

“Whaaat? He can be very, um…persuasive.”

“You don't get to call me horny anymore. You’re a menace."

Wooyoung huffed. “Anyway then you knocked on the door… and I dunno, I was embarrassed! And the alcohol was really starting to hit him, so I just said fuck it, we’re getting out of here.”

Yeosang rubbed his eyes. “At least you can still feel embarrassment, I guess. What happened then? Did you just come back home? _”_

Wooyoung interlaced his fingers, flexing and stretching them, a nervous habit. He had planned on lying about this. He had planned on saying he walked San home or gotten him an uber. He even had a backup lie if he couldn’t get the nerve, that he had rolled out a futon for San in his room, or something.

But he had underestimated the weight he was now feeling for omitting so much. He was fatigued under it already. What was the point, anyway?

“We got back here and crashed. He was wasted, I was exhausted, we just shared my bed. He left this morning.” He finished, rubbing his temples.

Wooyoung still chose to leave the morning shenanigans out of it, knowing that it was only a question away from being revealed. He didn’t have the strength to lie right now. He really hoped Yeosang wouldn’t ask.

Yeosang sighed, dropping his hand to the table.

“You could have put him on the couch, at least. It’s like you set yourself up for trouble, sometimes, Woo.”

Wooyoung rolled his neck, exasperated. “I know...”

“ _Good._ ” Yeosang’s tone turned cold. Wooyoung looked at him and was met with a sharp glare.

“I was _worried,_ you know? I didn't know things had progressed this far! I thought we invited him to the party so we could _both_ get to know him and see if he’s normal!”

Wooyoung shrunk away. 

“And _what_ do you do?"

Yeosang held up his fingers to count on, pressing each one harshly as he enunciated his grievances. " _Kiss_ him, make him jealous, _fight_ with him, and then _disappear_ !" He threw up his hands. " _With_ him! You’re _ridiculous!_ Being your friend is gonna give me a heart attack.”

“Sorry...”

“I’m very disappointed in you.”

“Stoooop! You’re not my _mom_.”

“Oh, _I wish._ I’ve seen your dad.”

Wooyoung ran over and swatted him with limp hands. “Ew, dude! Ewwww!”

Yeosang chuckled, leaning away from the assault.

Wooyoung smiled and sat at the table with him, dropping his head into his hands in utter defeat, letting the comfortable silence wash over them.

After a time, Yeosang tilted his chin towards him.

“So I was right. You like him.”

Wooyoung sat up hesitantly, pulling his arms around him. “Maybe…”

“Pfft! _Still_? After all that, _maybe?”_

 _“_ I don't know much about him!"

"I thought he was walking you home all the time?"

"Yeah, but…he doesn't say much. I'm just…”

Wooyoung hugged in on himself, unpleasant memories coming back, not just of San. “I dunno. He disappeared for a few days, and I didn't even know where he was."

Yeosang's face softened. “Is he really that much different when it’s just the two of you? With me and our friends he’s pretty normal…?” He said it like there was a question. 

There was definitely a question if Choi San was anywhere near ‘normal.’

“Yeah I saw that…" Wooyoung frowned, putting his cheek in his palm while he looked away dejectedly.

"...Are you sure it’s not something you're doing?"

Wooyoung rounded on him, eyes wide with anger and offense.

Yeosang quickly threw up his hands in defense. "Woah, hey! I’m not trying to say you’re asking for it or anything! I’m just--I don't know… You do put up walls sometimes, Woo. I’m just wondering if it’s that. I'm not accusing you of anything, okay? I'm not there when you’re alone so how would I know?”

He put his hands down, turning his head to mutter. “ ...I mean, seems there's a lot I don't know…" 

Wooyoung threw a hand up, moving it like he was presenting something. "There's a lot I don't know too! That’s why you have to come with me to the studio! Like, now.” He pulled his fingers into an anxious fist. “Pleeeease?”

Yeosang narrowed his eyes. “You…you're going to a class?"

Wooyoung nodded. “Yes. To watch. And I bet Seonghwa will be there too~” He said with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Yeosang rolled his eyes. _"Yes,_ I’ll go! ... _Thank you,_ for inviting me. God, Wooyoung, you're giving me whiplash, here." 

Yeosang stood, walking over to the sink to deposit his empty mug. "I would say I can’t believe you, but unfortunately, I can.” 

Yeosang rolled his head towards him, unamused. Wooyoung just gave a a toothy clenched smile, bouncing anxiously next to the stairs.

  
  


Yeosang managed to shower and get dressed in the duration it took Wooyoung used to do his makeup and don his accessories, which probably meant he was going a little overboard.

Whatever, it’s not like _he_ was going to be doing Taekwondo, he was just watching. Might as well look good.

San had texted him the time and address of the class and they were running a little late, but that didn’t stop Wooyoung from stopping by the cafe and picking up some food and coffee on the way. Yeosang had grumbled about being late, but ended up getting an extra coffee and adding to the pastries, likely for Seonghwa.

They follow the instructions on Wooyoung’s phone, arriving at a strip of shops not far from the cafe. 

When they enter, they catch the attention of a few students sitting on their knees in three neat lines, facing a serene, closed-eyed San; the only one in the room not pointed towards the wall of mirrors. 

The room was dark, only a few lights far off in the back illuminating it. Low, calm music was playing, interrupted by their entrance.

Wooyoung and Yeosang step gingerly into the space, hunching shyly as they quickly pad towards the chairs against the wall obviously meant for observers.

There’s a window and door propped open next to the chairs, and from it Seongwha pops his head out. He ushers them over and inside of a cozy looking office.

Seongwha stepped aside to let them in.

“Hey guys, good to see you! Sorry, they start with some meditation, so we’ll just wait in here for a second.” He whispered, closing the door behind him, muffling the dulcet tones.

He cleared his throat as he turned around, voice returning to a reasonable volume. He looked a little worse for wear, but to be expected after getting dragged to a party last night. 

“Hey Yeosang! I didn’t know you were coming too. You also wanted to check out a class?”

Yeosang shrugged sheepishly, leaning his skateboard against the wall. “Thought it’d be interesting, didn’t have anything else to do before my shift, anyway.”

“We brought coffee.” Wooyoung announced, holding up the paperboard drink carrier. “And treats.” 

“Oh, thank you!” Seongwha replied, gesturing to the desk and couch against the wall. “Please.”

Wooyoung set the drinks down, taking one for himself as well as a scone before he went to sit. Yeosang placed the bag on the desk as well before joining him, looking out the window of the office into the main room, which was still dark and still as the people inside continued to meditate. 

Wooyoung’s eyes found San immediately.

He looked rigid and strong in his black dobok, face focused and almost stern despite the relaxing music and atmosphere. A headband was preventing his hair from falling into his closed eyes, which were bare, no longer smudged with makeup. He looked so different in this setting. Nothing like the ruffled, primal man that had been in his bed earlier this morning.

“This is an adult class?” Wooyoung asked, now noticing the other participants in the room. He munched his scone slowly.

“Yeah.” Seongwha answered. “Though it’s for beginners; else I would be out there as well.”

“Do you ever help teach?” Yeosang asked.

“Yeah, sometimes. Though it’s mostly San and his sister doing the instructing. I’ll help correct form sometimes, and for the kid’s classes I step in a bit more, try to keep it from getting unruly.” 

“Oh are we gonna get a chance to see that?” Yeosang asked, clearly excited.

“If you stick around, yeah. There’s a kid’s class after this one.” 

Seongwha took a seat on their side of the desk, plucking a coffee from the carrier as he crossed his legs. The material of his pants slipped up his slim ankle, and Wooyoung suppressed a smile. Seongwha seemed too elegant to be wearing a baggy dobok.

When the music started to fade Seongwha stood and went to the door. He opened it, hand coming to the wall next to it and swiping what must be a lightswitch.

The room was bathed in bright light. Several students opened their eyes and squinted uncomfortably, as San calmly stood and looked out over them.

“You can sit out here now, if you want.” Seongwha offered as he exited the office. He strode over to a stereo in the corner and switched it off, cutting off the lingering music. Wooyoung and Yeosang peek out, lingering in the doorway.

Wooyoung makes brief eye contact with San as he addresses his students. His face twitches in a quick smile, barely noticeable if you weren’t looking for it, before he is back in teacher-mode.

Wooyoung and Yeosang sit at the chairs against the back wall, facing San just as the students are, sipping their coffees as the class proceeds. 

They watch as San guides them through a series of poses, that’s all in all, not very exciting. Wooyoung briefly regrets not asking to just attend this class, since it looked like a mild workout at best. 

Seongwha made his way back over, stopping first by a man posing on the mat. He pointed down at the man’s feet, quietly saying something to the other. The man shifted his foot and Seongwha nodded, resuming his trajectory to the back of the room.

He takes a seat next to Yeosang and proceeds to explain the motions that the students are going through, which helps. Wooyoung was sure he’d get bored if he didn’t even know what was going on.

After another 45 minutes, the class thankfully ends. Most everyone approaches San to bow and thank him before gathering their things and leaving.

San jogs over to them, bouncing on the springy mat goofily. “Hey Wooyoung! Yeosang!” He stopped at the edge of the mat, jumping off of it to land in front of them. He wore a wide smile, eyes squished up into crescents.

"Hey, San." Yeosang replied, raising an eyebrow. "You certainly recovered from last night well."

Wooyoung kept his gaze away from his friend. He certainly had an inkling as to why San's mood was so elevated, despite likely being hungover. He grabbed the coffee he had brought for San and extended it to him.

"Yeah, oh!” San's face fell for a moment, eyebrows going up as he processed what was being handed to him. The smile returned quickly.

"Thank you, Wooyoung!"

Wooyoung felt his ears grow hot, so he busied himself with finding the bag he'd brought.

"Do you have much time before the next class?" He asked, crumpling the paper as he grabbed it.

San's eyes found Seonghwa, a nonverbal request to speak for him as he sipped his mocha. 

"Yeah next class is in about 15 minutes. Are you guys sticking around for that one too?" Seongwha said, gaze settling on Yeosang. 

Yeosang looked at Wooyoung, who shrugged and nodded as he fished out a pastry from the bag and handed it to San.

"I can hang out." he replied, "Yeosang has work soon.”

"It's a kid's class." Seongwha reminded, still looking at Yeosang, as that comment was clearly meant to sweeten the deal for him.

Yeosang’s eyebrows pinched together, mouth falling open dramatically. "Aww I don't want to miss that! I have to leave in like, half an hour. I’ll stay until then."

San smiled and sat cross-legged on the mat behind him, accepting the chocolate loaf from Wooyoung with another squinted smile. Wooyoung let out an amused snort of air before he sat back in his chair, equally amused when Seonghwa joined San on the mat so he could also face them as they ate. Yeosang sat in the chair next to him, finally grabbing a pastry out of the bag for himself.

They ate and chatted together peacefully, until parents and kids began trickling in.

Many of them greeted San from the door before turning and leaving, dropping their little monsters off so they could run errands in peace.

A few set up at the remaining chairs lined up at the wall, a book or phone in hand to busy themselves as their kids greeted each other and began to run around the space, excited for class to start.

Wooyoung felt a bit out of place, they were getting looks from parents who didn't know who they were, or why they would be there. 

He felt even more out of place as more parents came inside to greet San, leaving Wooyoung to watch awkwardly, slightly annoyed that their conversation was being interrupted over and over.

San eagerly let his attention be taken by each parent, like a programmed instinct, turning and greeting each one as they approached to make sure that San knew that their kid was now in his care. It was slightly irksome, but Wooyoung knew it couldn’t be helped. He knew from experience that customers needed to be acknowledged when they arrived; and it was much more pressing that San knew he had another small person he was responsible for than it was for him to know another person was in line for coffee.

He watched a young woman approach San, bringing with her a kid that was too old to possibly be hers. She identified him as her younger brother as she nudged him forward to join the other children, pleasantries slipping from her mouth as she twirled her hair with her finger.

Wooyoung crossed his arms, feeling extra annoyed and awkward now. He could hear Yeosang and Seongwha’s conversion next to him, but wouldn’t dare interrupt. It sounded like they were exchanging numbers.

The woman goes on for far too long, smiling and laughing at her own joke about the weather. San doesn't laugh, but he gives her a friendly smile, which only seems to encourage her. Wooyoung rolls his eyes, looking away.

He refused to be jealous. This girl wasn’t even that pretty. Her flirting was lame, _and_ it was pointless. San was in _his bed_ this morning, and he definitely wanted a repeat. If anything, Wooyoung should feel sorry for her, flirting so shamelessly with someone who probably didn’t even like her gender.

He focuses instead on a kid crouched on the mat. He's winding his small arms up before lunging forward. He rolls, somersaulting and giggling as he finishes. It prompts another student to try, and then another. Wooyoung’s chest rose in a laugh, rambunctious display lifting his mood a little.

Eventually San stood. He waved to Wooyoung as he went, taking his place at the front of the class, facing away from the mirrors. Seonghwa clapped his hands together loudly, garnering attention as he walked across the mat.

“Okay, everyone! Class is starting!” He announced, joining San at the front. He stood off to the side, planting his feet with a sway and holding his hands behind his back.

Wooyoung nudged Yeosang, who was looking around excitedly at the kids like he had just noticed them.

“Nice work, there Sangie.” He said playfully, flicking his head to the phone in Yeosang’s hands.

Yeosang smiled, bashfully turning his head away into his own shoulder. “ _Thanks_ , I know.” He said, voice teasing and light.

The kids run around in circles, quickly finding their spots. 

When they are all standing in their places San turns to Seonghwa, who turns to face him, bowing stiffly. San bows back, then turns to face the students again, stance straight and expectant. The kids bow, and San and Seonghwa both reciprocate, before San sits cross legged on the mat. The students follow. 

Wooyoung looks at Yeosang again as San greets the students, curious about his friend’s reaction. Yeosang was focused on Seonghwa, interest clearly piqued. Wooyoung shook his head, not sure which was better entertainment, the class or Yeosang.

“So this was worth it?” He whispered to the other.

Yeosang nodded. “ _So_ worth it. I wish I didn’t have to go so soon.”

Wooyoung nodded in agreement, turning to continue watching. 

The class proceeds, the kids eventually standing and doing poses like the previous class did, before moving on to practicing specific kicks. San seems a lot gentler with the kids than the adult students, a little less tense. His eyes sparkle with joy at a girl who imitates his kick, high and fast, landing with a little bounce. Her eyes go wide like she's surprised herself, before whipping her head to look at her instructor. San laughs, patting her on the shoulder as he passes by. It clearly takes effort to school his features to something more serious.

Wooyoung feels his heart clench a little.

Yeosang is cooing at Seonghwa whose demonstrating the move to a smaller group. Wooyoung looks over and can’t help but agree. Seongwha had really been exaggerating about just 'helping out', he was like a second instructor to these kids.

When Yeosang leaves, he does so reluctantly. 

Wooyoung has to push him out of his chair because he’s already running late, and will have to haul ass to get to the cafè on time. He grabbed his skateboard from the office, ignoring Wooyoung’s nagging just long enough to get Seongwha’s attention. When he got it he waved, mouthing goodbye before rushing for the exit.

Wooyoung watches him go, shaking his head with clenched teeth. Is this how Yeosang felt all the time? 

He looked among the other observers, most of them had their heads down. His attention is grabbed by the young woman from earlier, seated only a few seats away from him. 

She’s one of the few not glued to their phone; instead she has an appreciative look on her face, pointed out towards the students.

Wooyoung follows her gaze and scoffs. Of _c_ _ourse_ she isn’t watching her little brother do clumsy kicks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks [Littlegreybyrd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlegreybyrd/pseuds/Littlegreybyrd) for editing!💕


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, it's been a while! You know how it is during the holidays… and COVID.  
>   
> I got COVID.  
>   
> Reminder to stay safe and wear a mask! Please do. This isn't fun.
> 
> It's a long one, longest chapter yet.  
> It didn't feel right to stop somewhere in the middle, so... Strap in.
> 
>  **!!!TRIGGER WARNING!!!** Mind the tags

The class ended with the students bowing towards the front and San and Seongwha bowing back.

Wooyoung leans forward in his chair, hands on the armrests to lift himself, only to stop mid-motion when San's head snaps in his direction.

The instructor breaks out in a beaming smile, nearly blinding, even in the already burning glare of the fluorescent lights. 

Wooyoung inhales sharply. He feels his face start to heat just as San holds up a finger on each hand, asking for 'just a minute’.

Wooyoung would normally scoff and ignore such directions, but the little tilt San’s head makes gives him pause. The corners of his lips tug upwards automatically; he finds himself relaxing back into his chair.

San jogs to the door, followed by Seongwha after a delayed start. Wooyoung catches the way the other’s eyes flick from San to himself, the quirked eyebrow, the pouted bottom lip.

Wooyoung finds himself mirroring the expression. He wonders how much the other knows, how much San has explained to him. He can’t fathom what San would have even said, would say now.

Seongwha joins San by the door only briefly; he offers a deep, polite bow to the parents before turning heel and disappearing into the back of the studio, leaving San to exchange goodbyes with everyone as they take their leave.

Wooyoung busied himself with his phone, smiling when he noticed a text from Yeosang.

**Yeosang > Made it!!!!**

Wooyoung smiled. It seemed Yeosang had got to work on time. Barely.

**Me > Glad you made it in one piece! I was scared your brovaries were gonna explode ;P **

He waited on the chat window and, as expected from on-the-clock Yeosang, the reply came quickly.

**Yeosang > Not yet. But they are SO ready to**

Wooyoung snorted lightly, shaking his head. Yeosang’s hopes were, apparently, back up regarding Seonghwa; Wooyoung wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing.

He looked back up. Most everyone had left the studio: only a few stragglers were left behind. Parents were finishing packing up their things or corralling their children towards the exit.

Of course that girl is one of them.

She’s not making much effort on the corralling; her younger brother was chatting with his friends, making it harder for their exasperated parents to urge them to the exit.

San was still off to the side by the door, delivering goodbyes. The girl flipped her hair and sauntered over, a little bounce in her walk that she surely knew made her tits jiggle.

Wooyoung sees it--them? uck--catch San’s attention, because how could they not? His eyebrows raise and lips purse in surprise before his eyes quickly flick back up to her face--where they’re supposed to be. She doesn’t even flinch, just starts running off compliments to San, whose surprised face eventually shifts to neutral as he thanks her several times, struggling a little to keep up.

Wooyoung crosses his arms.

San’s face is turning pink; pinker than it was from the exertion of class. He’s responding to the woman politely, letting the conversation continue until it’s almost smooth. Wooyoung sees her shoulder’s loosen, entire posture going playful and soft, even though it was _San_ she was speaking to.

She taps him on the arm after a joke, playfully, and San merely raises his brows before smirking at her. 

Wooyoung can’t believe what he’s seeing. There’s a stone in his gut, making his insides churn. San seems relaxed now; he’s not nearly as meek as he was with Wooyoung, or his friends. The scene in front of him seems so natural: San even seems _cool._

He gawks at them, until the conversation eventually gets interrupted. It's Seongwha, emerging from the back in his street clothes, a backpack slung over his shoulder.

“I’m out, San!” The eldest called out, catching everyone’s attention. He strolled across the room with a hand on the sleeve of his button up, rolling the short sleeve up a fold. His white keds tap across the tile with an unnecessary echo.

He directs his attention at Wooyoung, nodding in acknowledgment. “Wooyoung.” He says as he goes to the office door, hand grazing over the lightswitches. Wooyoung gives a half-wave and a hum as the other flicks one down, switching off half of the fluorescents, leaving them in partial darkness.

He then walks to the exit, slowing to throw the girl an unamused glance. Wooyoung is still in his seat, but feels his eyes bug at the obvious hint: that class is over and she should _leave_.

Wooyoung sees the little brother is hanging on the door onto the sidewalk, idly swinging it back and forth. Seonghwa side-steps him, eyebrows furrowed like he wants to say something. He doesn’t, but the judgemental look doesn’t disappear until he does.

“Bye, Seonghwa!” San calls after him.

The girl squints her eyes after Seonghwa before reaching forward and taking San’s shoulder to pull his attention back.

San has a slightly confused expression as he faces her, eyes briefly flicking to Wooyoung as he shifts back towards the center of the room. Wooyoung bristles as San resumes looking at her, at her wrist attached to the hand on his shoulder.

San delicately takes the wrist, bringing it between the two of them and covering it with his other hand. It’s too gentle, too tentative, and Wooyoung doesn’t know what to make of it.

The only thought running through his head is: has San ever touched _him_ like that?

“Hey, I don’t have much time today.” San was saying, eyes intent on the girl in front of him. “Sorry.” 

She startles.“O-oh. Okay… Um, then I’ll see you next time, then?”

San nods, and Wooyoung finally decides that he’s had enough.

He stands, fists clenched, gaining both San’s and the girl’s attention.

The girl’s head tilts. She pauses on him for a moment, then flounces to her brother and pries his hand from the door handle. With an audible ‘humph,’ she pulls him off it and out of the building with her.

“Bye, San!” she called from the doorway, before disappearing out of frame.

Wooyoung heads for the exit, and of course is intercepted by San.

“W-Wooyoung! Wait!”

“What?” Wooyoung snaps. The door swings closed, leaving them alone.

San tilts his head, as if a new angle will help him find what he wants to know. “Wha- what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Wooyoung narrows his eyes at San’s hovering hands, how he didn’t even have to brush them off to get by.

“You clearly have enough on your plate. I just figured I’d leave you to it.” He turns his shoulder to slip by, but San steps in his way again.

“What? What does _that_ mean?” San asks with a raised eyebrow. A good question, really.

Wooyoung curses himself at how pissy and passive-aggressive that sounded. He had hoped to come across as at least a _little_ cool.

Now he just felt petty.

“That --! That girl! She -- uuuGGH!” Wooyoung stomped his feet, growling in frustration. He raked his fingers up his face and into his hair. How could he explain when _he_ didn’t even quite know?

He shook his head and allowed himself to process for a minute, aware of San studying him. The feeling was familiar, validating, but the skin on his neck still felt cold.

“You…” He looked from San’s hesitant hands to his face. “Why am I even here, San? What _was_ that?” He clenched his fists at his sides.

San’s eyes were wide, but his mouth had closed shut. It didn’t seem that he planned on answering. 

Wooyoung pressed on.

“She was flirting with you! Were you _trying_ to make me mad, or did you just forget I was here? What’s with the ‘next time’ shit? Is that a regular thing? How many of your students and their siblings are you so friendly with?”

San pulled his head back, pointing to himself, eyebrow furrowing slightly.

Wooyoung scoffed. "Who _else_ would I mean??"

San still didn’t answer. He blinked, head tilting down and rotating slowly on its axis like an owl, his finger curling in and dropping to his side.

Wooyoung crossed his arms, rolling his head in annoyance. Did he really have to wait for the other to put two and two together? 

He finally cleared his throat to get San’s attention. San’s head tilted up ever-so-slightly, lips pursed to speak while his eyes bore into Wooyoung’s. 

“You’re jealous.”

Wooyoung's jaw shut with an audible snap.

“No! I’m not! I’m _mad!_ Because you acted like you’re all interested in me and then flirt with some chick!”

“I wasn’t-” San’s hands balled into fists. He took a deep breath, like he needed it to calm himself. Reaching up and pulling his headband off, he flicked the hair out of his eyes and squeezed it.

“Last night, _you_ kissed _me._ ” San continued. He looked away, eyebrows furrowing at the memory. “And then you and _Yeosang_ \--”

“I _told_ you, that wasn’t serious!” Wooyoung interrupted, eager to squash any mention of his own hypocrisy.

“And you think _that_ was?” San countered, raising his voice as he pointed at the door where the girl left. He scoffed, disbelief evident on his face.

The disbelief shifted. Wooyoung found himself on the receiving end of a hard, almost cold, look.

“Do you _want_ to see me serious?” San asked, stepping forward.

Wooyoung took a step back. “W-what? That's not what I said.” 

San took another step forward--Wooyoung took another backward. He narrowed his eyes as San followed, mirroring the opposite with his feet.

They moved further into the space, circling each other slowly.

The tension in the air was thick and encumbering, like he was trailing through knee-deep water. He waded through, legs moving on their own. The raised hair on his neck itched.

He ended back where he started: back to the mat, San in front of him. He had had enough of the dance. He planted his feet, and San did the same.

“Tell me, Wooyoung. Are _you_ serious?” San was asking him, face hard, humorless. His headband fell from his loose grip onto the floor.

Wooyoung’s mouth twitched down. “About--?”

He barely finishes the word before San starts towards him.

San’s hands were on his face, thumbs on his cheeks and fingers stretching back onto his nape. He was capturing him, entire skull in his palms as he moved forward while pulling Wooyoung in, swiftly meeting their lips.

Wooyoung’s hands find San’s arms, limply. 

He barely registers the soft pressure against his mouth at first, distracted by the feeling of San cradling his head. The hold on him wasn’t strong: it was tender, seeping pleasant warmth into his veins. 

Wooyoung’s eyes slipped shut, endorphins bursting as he finally registered the soft plushness against his lips. 

It’s nothing like the heated, and angry kisses from last night; like the desperate ones from this morning. The lips against his are full and tingling against his own, tempting Wooyoung to chase the feeling and kiss back. 

He doesn’t. His mind wanders. He wonders what this kiss is conveying; if that’s affection he feels swelling in his chest. His lips go soft, the buzz in his brain is dampened by an ugly twinge of sadness.

San makes a frustrated noise, muffled by Wooyoung’s still lips.

He moves Wooyoung back, leading him with his hands. Wooyoung’s shins meet the mat, but San is still pushing. His heel scrapes against the plasticy material as he clumsily manages to step up onto the level behind him.

San was stepping up too, bringing Wooyoung’s face with him and forcing him to get his other foot up. Wooyoung's breath hitches as he nearly falls backwards during the shift, knees bending and foot sliding backwards a bit. He grabs onto the sleeves of San’s dobok for support as their weight is put completely onto the new ground.

San gives him no reprieve: he’s forcing Wooyoung backwards, hands moving to his shoulders. Wooyoung struggles for balance as his feet sink into the cushy material. He’s stumbling, fingers tight in the material of San’s sleeves. He’s suddenly ripped from the other when San pushes him; his back meets the mirrored wall roughly.

Wooyoung yelps, ducking his head forward so it doesn’t collide with the wall behind him. He’s relieved he only hears the solid thump of his back, no cracking of glass. The sad twinge is wiped from his mind, replaced by guilty excitement that makes his skin thrum.

He flinches when a hand thumps next to him, planting firmly on the mirror. He meets San’s eyes, a bit disappointed to see concern and uncertainty in them. They harden when Wooyoung raises a brow, challenging.

San is crowding him, strong fingers grabbing and pressing in on his face. Wooyoung’s jaw drops at the pressure applied to his cheeks, and then San’s tongue is sliding in, deep and hungry. 

Wooyoung sighs into the kiss, more accustomed to this than the intimate touch San was using before. He rubs the stud on his tongue against San’s, returning the kiss the only way he knew how: filthily. He twisted his tongue around the other’s, reveling in the short, low sound that escaped from his throat. 

There’s a hand on his waist, and the one on his nape slides back into his hair, tugging his head to the side. San yanks his turtleneck down, diving in to mouth down his neck.

“Ah!” Wooyoung gasped, lolling his head to the side.

The further down San goes, the harder his hand on Wooyoung’s waist squeezes, the more teeth come out against his skin.

Too much, considering where they were. He remembers the unlocked door, the window in it. Potential eyes that aren’t San’s.

“Ahhhhggnn! W-wait..!”

San continued tugging on his collar, bunching the excess fabric in his fist.

“San!” Wooyoung tried again.

The other hand on his waist slipped up and down his ribs, only adding to the stimuli overwhelming him.

“Can’t believe you’re jealous.” San murmured, nosing his jaw.

Wooyoung felt his eye twitch at the accusation. He grabbed San’s shoulders to push him off.

“M’not.” He said, applying pressure.

San released him abruptly, taking a half step back. Wooyoung fell forward without the hold pushing him up, only to be grabbed by his shoulders and spun around. 

He looked at them in the mirror as he was faced towards it, at San’s shoulders peeking above his in the reflection. The conflicting emotions were written all over his own face, a mixture of irritation and desire. 

San’s eyebrows were drawn in, confused. He was shaking his head. 

“You _are_. I don’t know _why_ , though.”

Wooyoung watched San’s arms come around him, one looping around his middle and the other working its way up his front, hand splaying along Wooyoung’s clothed collarbones.

“ _Look_ at you.”

Wooyoung gripped San’s forearms, looking into those eyes through the mirror. They held his, before leading his gaze down. Wooyoung followed it, to the veined hand on his chest, so pale against the dark material. He looked at his own face, slowly being drained of hostility and complex thought. 

“Did you think she was pretty? Prettier than _you?_ ”

San’s nose crumpled in distaste. His lips brush against Wooyoung’s ear.

“You’re being silly. _Look_.”

San’s hand runs up, yanking on the collar of Wooyoung’s now loose turtleneck, folding it down on itself. Wooyoung flinches when he sees the marks, practically shining on his neck. San’s fingers trace the bruises and hickies there.

"Look…”

Wooyoung feels his face radiate, hot with shame. He leans his head away, pulling at San’s arm to remove the fingers from his skin, but the moment San’s hand curls around his throat his body goes limp, a desperate whimper escaping him.

San must know what he was doing to him, it was obvious. The effect on Wooyoung was instant, how he went lax in San’s rough hands like a young rabbit in a fox’s mouth.

It should be embarrassing, and it is. But that doesn’t stop Wooyoung from stroking his hand up and down San’s forearm encouragingly, whining for more. His body was so relaxed, almost collapsing into San whose arm held Wooyoung to his chest, tight.

He looked up into the mirror, into those fox eyes pressed so close to his face. He gulped heavily against the hand on his throat. His anger was forgotten, his pride: forgotten. He barely had enough to drag his head away from his own wanton image.

San dragged it back.

“I want to see you. I want to see _everything_. You’re so beautiful, Wooyoung.” San was saying, hand relaxing after Wooyoung was back in position, facing the mirror. His knobbly fingers took turns taping against Wooyoung's throat, slow and flexing, like a drowsy spider.

“Even when you’re jealous or angry, I want to see…” The fingers tightened again, squeezing briefly.

“Ahh…”

He felt San’s lips shift against his ear as he tilted his head back, appraising him. 

“It’s surreal for me. You’re not angry at someone else, you’re not jealous because of someone else... It’s because of me." 

The arm on his stomach tightened momentarily, pulling back and letting a hand venture inwards, slipping under his shirt. The other crept up to his jaw.

“I love it so much…”

“That’s so weird…” Wooyoung drawled, devoid of any bite.

San was unaffected. “I’ll take weird. I’ll take whatever you give me.” His hand slipped up to Wooyoung’s nipple, fingertips brushing against the raised nub.

“F-fuck!”

There’s a loud rumbling from the back. Wooyoung jumped, nearly out of San’s hold. But the grip on him didn't falter.

“It’s just the garbage truck in the alley, it’s okay…” San soothed, fingers stroking Wooyoung’s throat reassuringly.

Wooyoung was still tense. He remembers the door, eyes flicking to it before looking back in the mirror. He looks them over, at San feeling him up with a hand on his throat. It’s so compromising, so fucking embarrassing. He tugs the hand out from inside his shirt. 

San lets him, the other hand following its lead and loosening its hold.

He's not sure what to do, now. How to proceed when he's so obviously worked up in such an inopportune place.

San moves first. He takes Wooyoung’s wrist and pulls. Wooyoung follows, walking across the room and stepping down off the mat, following San's lead into the office.

San closes the door behind him. Wooyoung hears the lock click in place. He inhales deeply, shoulders straight as he watches San go to the window to close the blinds.

When San turns his eyes find their target. Wooyoung shivers, he feels way too alone and exposed standing so far away by the desk. He takes a step forward, wanting the feeling to end. 

San, thankfully, meets him, pulling him in by his upper arms and kissing him.

There’s an itching discomfort when San doesn’t part his lips right away, the feeling from earlier, only dampened by arousal. He deepens the kiss himself, knees going weak when he feels a sharp sting. San had bitten his bottom lip, was dragging it out slowly, punishingly. 

San releases Wooyoung's lip, glare playful as he pulls back. He comes back in and takes over the kiss, and Wooyoung’s knees complete their transformation into jelly.

He doesn’t fall: he can’t. San is grappling him, rough hands on his ass dragging him into the other's sturdy frame, pulling their hips together. Wooyoung groans into his mouth, realizing now that of _course_ they’re both hard.

San spins them around, and suddenly Wooyoung is freed; a light push is all it takes to send him toppling backwards.

He lands on the couch unceremoniously, an ugly ‘oof’ escaping him as the air punches from his lungs.

It knocks some sense into him, jump-starting his brain. 

San was too smooth, now. He was smooth earlier, too, talking to that girl. Wasn’t Wooyoung mad at him? What _happened?_

He can’t believe he let himself get swept up like this. He scoffs at himself, shaking his head. 

He sees San freeze in his periphery, taking an uncertain step back. 

Wooyoung smirks up at him petulantly, taking advantage of his hesitation. 

“You think you got your ace in the hole with me just because you know I like it rough?” He grumbled, pushing himself up against the leather behind him and scooching forward, sitting up straight to at least have the guise of dignity.

“Just push me a little, and I’ll do whatever you want?” His winded words betrayed him, like he wasn’t scolding San at all: just giving him pointers.

San’s eyebrows raise, his mouth is slightly open, red and plush. He shook his head.

Wooyoung watches rigidly, a bit surprised when the look on San’s face shifts to one that could only be described as _pained_.

“No… it’s not what _I_ want.” San says, voice weak. He steps forward, knees nudging Wooyoung’s legs apart so he could step in between them. His hands find Wooyoung’s shoulders.

“And I’m not pushing _you_ , either.” He says, despite the fact he’s bearing forward, driving Wooyoung back into the couch.

Wooyoung leans back, looking up at San incredulously.

"You’re the one pushing me." San reiterates, dropping to his knees on the floor, situating himself between Wooyoung’s legs. His hands slide up Wooyoung’s thighs.

Wooyoung is at a loss for words. San is pulling his shirt up and kissing his lower stomach, light kisses tickling along his happy trail. He’s unzipping his zipper, easing the uncomfortable tightness as he frees Wooyoung from his pants, taking him into his hand. 

Wooyoung jolts.

“Oh, _fuck…”_

San is leaning forward, hand sliding down as he brings Wooyoung into his mouth.

“Ahhhggnn...!” Wooyoung moans, hips twitching upwards. His fingers claw at the couch. San pulls off to the head, sucking it harshly. He gives a few full-throated bobs before he pulls off and strokes Wooyoung’s dick, focusing on spreading the wetness around. 

Wooyoung takes the opportunity to breathe in, to catch his breath. He brings his hands down, gently touching the other's face. San’s eyes flick up to him, wide as he hovers over Wooyoung once again. He doesn't blink as he descends, swallowing him down to the base.

Wooyoung keens, fingers threading into the other’s hair. San's mouth feels amazing, so hot and wet, lips tight around him.

San’s eyes bore into his: his high, sharp cheekbones are even more pronounced as he hollows them in. He sucks in his cheeks further, making a vacuum with his mouth.

Wooyoung looks away. The wet sucking sound as San slurps is too much. It's so loud and shameless that he feels embarrassed _for_ San, face burning red.

Only minutes ago he was watching parents collect their children from their lesson and now his cock is in their instructor’s mouth.

Wooyoung looks back at him, unable to resist the sight for long. His fingers go slack when he hears San choke.

San slides off, before going back down and choking again. Wooyoung shakes his head. He tightens his fingers on San's head and pulls, unwilling to choke a teacher with his dick, even though he seemed so eager. This man was _just_ praising children.

"E-easy!" He hissed, pulling San up.

San gives him a heavy look, almost adversarial. Wooyoung thinks to this morning when he pulled San’s hair, to how it made the other moan and call out his name.

San's mouth opens, upper lip stretching back deliberately to show teeth. Hair falls into his eyes as he lowers himself back over the head of Wooyoung's cock, teeth making contact just barely, like a threat. Wooyoung tugs a strand of San’s hair in response, and is rewarded with a dimpled smile. The teeth retract from his cock, back to a safe distance hidden in San’s mouth.

Wooyoung lets out a shaky laugh as San licks his lips. He loosens his fingers, nodding his head, signalling the other to continue. San's smile softens; he takes Wooyoung back in his mouth, swirling his tongue as he goes. He bobs a few times, gagging again as he goes too deep.

Wooyoung feels relieved when San opts for speed over depth. He's sliding on and off Wooyoung's dick over and over, working diligently. His eyes are intense, almost scary, but contrasted with the warm wetness on his cock, it makes Wooyoung moan brokenly.

"F-fuck! I'm gonna--!"

San ups his pace, hand working the base of Wooyoung's cock while his lips went up and down. Wooyoung's stomach tightens, his toes curling in his shoes as he barrels towards the edge.

He's spilling into San's mouth, right as the other is pulling off, lips only around the head. San stills, eyebrows going up as he realizes what's happening. He sinks back down, engulfing him in heat as he finishes. Wooyoung groans, so satisfied and full.

He pets San’s hair, quick breaths accentuated with soft whines as he comes down.

San pulls off of him, mouthful making the wet slide sound filthy. He opens his mouth, tongue cupped at the sides to show the aftermath, a pool of Wooyoung’s cum situated there.

Wooyoung gapes, fascinated and disgusted at seeing his own spunk swirling in San’s mouth. He wrinkles his nose as San takes his index finger and runs it through the mess, pulling it up in front of his face. He looks at the evidence on his finger, inspecting it with interest.

San swallows, gulp audible in the quiet room. He pops his finger in his mouth next, sucking it with a squeak to clean it.

Wooyoung shakes his head at the unusual display, eyelids heavy and making his blinks slow. Despite that, he felt floaty and light, only vaguely aware of San’s hands sliding up and down his thighs again.

San laid his head down on Wooyoung’s leg, sighing heavily. He looked about as relaxed as Wooyoung felt, though he was definitely still rock-hard.

“Was that... okay?” He asks, breath coming in deep pants.

Wooyoung shook his head, not to answer, but because he disagreed with the question being asked in the first place. San frowned, brow pinching in disappointment.

Wooyoung laughed, reaching forward to poke San’s cheek, where a dimple would normally show.

“Hey, hey!” He laughed, getting San’s eyes back on his face. 

“It was.” He poked again, pleased when he started to feel the divet form under his finger. “It was great. Fucking awesome.”

“… Are you sure? I was worried, at first you seemed a bit… off." San lifted his head from Wooyoung’s thigh.

Wooyoung frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“Out there…” San said, flicking his head in the direction of the main room. 

Wooyoung bristled, remembering San’s palms on his face, his fingertips on his nape, playing with his hairline. He swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew what San was referring to, but the acknowledgement now felt… awkward.

“Oh, uh… Yeah, that was fine...” He tucked himself back into his pants, clearing his throat as he buttoned up.

San looked relieved, his head found its place back on Wooyoung’s leg. “I just want to make sure all of this was okay... I haven’t really done anything like this before.”

Wooyoung raised a brow. “Done what? What do you mean?”

San bit his lip and Wooyoung felt a rush of panic.

“Sex?? O-oral?? What?” Wooyoung rushed out.

“Nono! I've done that!” San said, hands raising defensively. “I have…” 

His face fell as he trailed into silence. His gaze fell away, hands dropping back down as the words hung in the air. They lingered for far too long, going stale.

Wooyoung shifted his legs back and forth awkwardly, only slightly relieved by the revelation that San wasn’t a virgin. There was still something missing, something left unsaid.

He didn’t dare ask. He still wasn’t sure what San was referring to before, what he ‘hadn’t really done,’ but now the atmosphere was so awkward it felt stifling.

He cleared his throat, looking around for something to distract them. He looked around the small office, for something of interest. Now that he was quiet he could hear a clock, the sound of the second hand filling the space.

“Well, with a setup like this… I’m not surprised. Your own studio, little room with a lock and blinds. You can’t tell me you haven't hooked up here before.”

San was still looking off into the distance, eyes unfocused.

“No, I can’t.”

The second hand stuttered loudly, echoing in his ear.

“...What?”

San’s unfocused gaze was still pointed away. “I have.”

“You’ve… with people after class, hooked up with them in here?”

“Yeah.”

“More than once?”

San blinked, eyebrows pinching in. He gave a terse nod.

Wooyoung suddenly felt like he had been dunked in a river. “So, you do this a lot, then?”

San only glanced at him before he was looking away, back to maintaining eye contact with the wall. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Wooyoung did.

Player. Two-faced. Fake. He had quite a selection of words to pick from. He just needed to pick. But the words felt filthy on his tongue. He shoved San’s head off of him. Indignant anger ripped through him, making him hot in the face.

San startled, eyes wide as he righted himself.

“Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung scooted himself to the side of the couch, moving his legs so San was no longer between them. He stood. 

San followed. He turned, wide frame looking like a barricade.

Wooyoung shrank back from it. Who _was_ this person? 

"Wooyoung--"

“I’m not doing this.” Wooyoung said quickly. He should make an excuse and leave as fast as possible. 

“I don’t understand you.” He said instead.

Wooyoung thought back, trying to recall every shy comment San had ever made to him, every time he couldn’t tell if the other was flirting on purpose or not. 

He had been so sure he could smell a player a mile away, after all he’d been through... but now he wasn’t so sure.

“What _is_ this?” He asked, more to himself than San. His thoughts turned conspiratorial as he recalled how forward the girl was earlier, how _normal_ San had seemed responding to her. How different San was around _everyone_ else.

“What was all that at the coffee shop..? An _act_?"

He looked down at the couch he was just on with disgust.

"Was fucking your students’ hot sisters too easy? Then you stumble upon me, the damaged goods at the coffee shop and figure _‘Oh!_ _That’ll_ shake things up?’”

San’s face falls. It was marred with confusion and sadness, but Wooyoung didn’t know what to believe anymore.

“What?? Wooyoung, _no._ That’s not… that's not it at _all!_ ”

“Then _what is it_?” Wooyoung spits out, lips curling in a snide manner. He doesn’t give San a chance to answer.

“What’s it like, huh? Having cute girls, my friends, even _Yeosang_ fawning all over you?? Is it fun? Or is it too _easy_? Is that why you thought I’d be a nice change of pace??”

He was so angry. At San, at his ex, at himself.

“You find the one person that isn’t _immediately_ pining after you, and what, were you _surprised_?" He shook his head, disgusted by the ego, the entitlement. “Is that why you’ve been so infatuated with me?”

“Wooyoung, _no--”_

Wooyoung almost wanted to laugh. 

“So, is this the move? Show off your skills in class and then bring ‘em in here to fuck when it’s over?” He sucked his bottom lip into teeth, nodding as he examined the space. “Yeaaaah, bet that works _great._ Right, you said so yourself, didn’t you? You do this all the time-- _”_

“It’s not like I _wanted_ to!”

Wooyoung’s rant died in his throat.

San’s voice bounced off the walls and faded into an eerie silence. Wooyoung was hesitant to disturb it.

“...What?” He asked finally, voice low and poisonous.

The confusion poked at him, sparking anger from the ashes. “What does _that_ mean?”

San stepped backwards, hitting the wall behind him. “I… just how it sounds. I just try to be as nice as possible to people and sometimes... Sometimes people want more.”

Wooyoung’s eye twitched. “So?? What do you _mean_ ? Are you saying that you _don’t?_ It’s not like you have to do what people wan--”

Wooyoung froze. The memory of San saying he felt _trained_ popping into his head.

Oh.

Oh _no..._

Wooyoung whipped his head up. He tried to meet San’s eyes, but failed. San was avoiding him, dropping his head down.

“What do you _mean, San_?” Wooyoung tried again, disbelief and denial barely keeping his imagination in check. The word “trained” kept repeating in his head.

San stepped off to the side, increasing the distance between them. “Just what I said. That… that I didn’t want to. Not here, or at school, or at the club or anywhere else. With anyone. And I know that it’s weird that I didn’t-- ”

“-- _That’s not_...” Wooyoung cut him off, but didn’t continue. His stomach dropped, images running wild through his mind; flashes of dirty bar bathrooms and smoky passenger seats, of hands coercing his own, or pushing him onto his knees. His ex’s voice, firm and unquestionable.

“I just… go along with what people tell me to.”

Wooyoung felt sick.

He looked San over; he wasn’t in much better shape. He looked like a kicked dog. Like on the first day he ever followed Wooyoung home, right after Wooyoung had confessed that the staring had made him uncomfortable.

At the time San had nearly shut down. He had looked so ashamed. Scared even, when he tried to run away. San could have been faking a lot of things, but Wooyoung knew in his bones that he hadn’t faked that. 

He looked at San’s hands, they were trembling now.

“...why?” he asked quietly.

San shrugged, a single pathetic shoulder roll.

“I just do.”

Wooyoung looked away, breathing in deeply to calm himself.

“...Wooyoung? Are you okay?”

Wooyoung looked up. 

His vision had been heavily obscured, and his eyes were stinging painfully. He rubbed his knuckles against them quickly, dragging the moisture away.

“Y-yeah. I’m okay…” 

He looked at San. His eyes were glossy now too, flicking in between Wooyoung’s, searchingly.

Wooyoung sighed. He walked back over to the couch and sat, leaving room for San to join him. He patted the spot next to him and San shuffled over. He sat, hands on his closed knees politely.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

San took a deep breath.

“No.”

Wooyoung rubbed his temples. He could have expected that answer to that question; it’s the one he gave to Yeosang, San, and everyone else when they directed it at him.

“But if I asked you to, would you?”

San sighed, a full, shuddering sound. Wooyoung let it hang in the air, content to wait for the answer he wanted. 

“...Yes.”

  
  
  


They sat there for hours. 

With Wooyoung’s prompting, San told him stories, starting with his first sexual experience.

He was 14, he had given a blowjob to an older student in his Taekwondo class. It didn’t start off romantic or sexual, the other had approached him after class, asking for ‘special help’ from San, since he was the instructor’s son.

When the ‘special’ lessons took a turn San didn’t know what to do.

The other boy was insistent. His hands were moving San before he could even think, and when his dad was mentioned (a vague threat about saying his son wasn’t helping the other students), San had conceded.

The next time was not long after, and then again after that. San said he had suspected that kid of telling some of the other students, because several of them copied his method, requesting his time after class and waiting until they were alone.

San knew they weren’t going to tell his dad. He had realized halfway through the first time, he just didn’t want the kid to get angry if he stopped; he didn’t really know how to transition out of it. It was the same with the others, when the private lesson would take its inevitable turn.

It was the path of least resistance, the least amount of conflict, so that’s what he did.

The incidents at the studio stopped when those students graduated highschool and left town, but San didn’t shake the mindset so easily. 

It was even worse, if anything, outside the studio. At least at the studio he had known the students who had touched him, and he had known they could defend themselves if he pushed back.

Out in the world, he didn’t have such assurances. He was even more awkward, more afraid of using force against someone, his unfair advantage.

So when he was dragged to clubs or pulled behind the school's bleachers he _tried_ , but he was ill-equipped. When the voice insisted and the hands he pushed away returned he would give in, let it happen.

“Every time?” Wooyoung asked, now dreading how many times there were. San was certainly eye-catching, and from what Wooyoung had seen, oddly naiive, passive. He could picture it, could see the other getting swept up when he didn’t want to, voiceless and tolerant.

The thought hurt. “Did you really never want to, once?”

San shrugged. “Sometimes... I didn’t mind as much. Sometimes people want to return the favor, which is nice.” He paused, eyes flicking to the side as his face fell.

“...If I can get hard. If I can’t and they want me to, it’s so much worse.”

Wooyoung’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline. He had been trying to not let how disturbed he felt show on his face, but he was struggling, now that San finally looked uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable for the wrong reasons. San’s relationship with sex was fucked. Like consent didn't apply to him. It felt oddly immature, considering the subject matter.

Wooyoung felt for him. He had been hurt by his ex, a few other assholes... But San seemed like he hadn’t wanted _any_ of the sexual encounters he’d had. 

“With me, did you want to?” Wooyoung asked, lips moving before he could stop them. He squinted his eyes shut, dreading the answer.

It was instant.

“Yes.”

Wooyoung felt his shoulders sag in relief. 

"I wanted to." San said. "I _really_ wanted to. It’s weird...” His voice was quiet but determined. “...And it's been hard to control myself, to be honest."

Wooyoung snorted. That sounded like a line, again. 

He tried to suppress the weird pride bubbling in his chest, tried to sort through the pile of information given to him. It was still taxing, attempting to add everything up in his head.

Was San just an insanely late bloomer, meeting Wooyoung right when the hormones struck? Maybe he had repressed himself due to trauma, and now he was ready to let it all out? 

He shook his head. How could someone go from basically asexual, a reluctant participant in unwanted advances, to the person in front of him now? This was the person who ravaged him this morning, he had just been on his _knees.._. Wooyoung fussed with his shirt; it was still messed up from San’s advances. He fixed his collar, pushing the material further up his neck. This was the same person from last night, right?

"I'm serious." San said, catching Wooyoung’s gaze, eyes determined.

“I did. Want to. And I do…” His gaze faltered, dropping to his hands. “And I’m sorry. I-I don't know what I'm doing, I --" He took a deep breath, releasing it in a steady huff.

"I don't know how to act around you."

Wooyoung almost scoffed. Well _that_ was an understatement. 

He pushed the scoff back down and forced his mouth shut. Was San really such a weirdo around him because he was _nervous?_

He let the silence hang as he went over some of their encounters in his head, searching for lies, anything weird. Well, they were all weird, but were they weird in a suspicious way?

"Wooyoung." San called out quietly. 

Wooyoung turned to him, now trying to find the truth in his strange, unreadable face.

"I like you a lot.”

Wooyoung felt his eyes widen, thoughts flying out of his head from that metaphorical punch to the gut.

He tore his eyes away from the other to stare at his feet. His face felt so hot, suddenly.

“Uh.” 

“Not just because you’re pretty” San continued, voice turning wistful. “...You keep giving me chances. I know I've been strange, and probably even scared you, but you still haven't pushed me away." 

Wooyoung inhaled deeply, trying to get his bearings as he pulled at a loose thread on his jeans. 

He pulled it as far as it would give, sticking out all scraggly from his otherwise smooth silhouette. He kept his lips shut as the ugly feeling grew in his chest. 

Not pushing San away was probably more about his own issues than his capacity to be kind and understanding.

Out of the corner of his eye something catches his attention. His eyes snap to it, focusing in, to a spot under the chair he had been sitting in earlier. There were crumbs on the floor, a small pile; an open invitation for pests. He winced at his own carelessness, before looking around the room to see if there was a broom somewhere. 

San’s head lifted, swiveling and looking around with Wooyoung, before settling back on him in confusion. Wooyoung bit his lip, embarrassed to even ask, to even acknowledge the crumbs. Maybe there was a tissue he could use to sweep them into his hand? He didn’t want to leave them here like this, attracting bugs. And he didn’t want to make San clean it up. It was _his_ mess.

There was a hand covering his suddenly, startling him.

Wooyoung broke himself from his anxious spiral to look at it. 

It was warm, gentle fingers loosely sliding into the gaps between his own. The sight made his breath stutter, made his chest feel tight. The pressure hugged him comfortingly, just a little painful, a little too tight.

"I’m not used to this.” San was saying, looking at their hands as well. “I’ve surprised myself a lot, already. I didn’t think I’d ever…” He trailed off, lip catching in between his teeth.

Wooyoung spread his curious fingers wider, encouraging San’s to slide in completely, nice and snug in between his.

“I'm not used to... wanting someone, not like this. I’ve been so _worried._ ” San continued, his other hand moving up to the stretched collar of Wooyoung's turtleneck, pulling and exposing the flesh he'd been trying to hide. 

“About saying something, or doing something you won't like..." San’s eyes held a small fire, burning Wooyoung’s skin as they looked on in fascination. Wooyoung’s breath hitched as fingers ghosted over his bruises. 

San noticed, eyes briefly flicking to his face before back to his own hand. He slipped it back, thumb lagging behind for just a moment in an incidental grip. It ran roughly over Wooyoung’s adam’s apple, over the marks that were still painful to touch. His voice was quiet and low, words disconcerting despite their intent.

"I _really_ don’t want to scare you away."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... it's a lot, I know.
> 
> Let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!
> 
> Thanks to the lovely fellow writer [Littlegreybyrd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlegreybyrd/pseuds/Littlegreybyrd) for editing!💕  
>   
> Seriously I NEEDED her. I had such a hard time with this chapter, being sick really made it hard to write how I normally do.

**Author's Note:**

> I thirst and sometimes post kpop edits on my Twitter: [Sarisari_bb](https://twitter.com/Sarisari_bb) feel free to follow or bug me in the dms, I love it!  
> Comments are writing fuel


End file.
